Lena Dunham shares many things in her new book, “Not That Kind of Girl,” including a childhood story that was twisted into something sinister by National Review columnist Kevin D. Williamson and the website Truth Revolt.
On Saturday, the 28-year-old “Girls” star took to Twitter to defend herself against allegations made by the websites claiming Dunham, when she was 7, had molested her younger sister, Grace, who was 1 year old at the time. (Truth Revolt also initially reported that Dunham was 17 at the time at the time she allegedly abused her sister, before issuing a correction).
The right wing news story that I molested my little sister isn’t just LOL- it’s really fucking upsetting and disgusting.
— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) November 1, 2014
And by the way, if you were a little kid and never looked at another little kid’s vagina, well, congrats to you.
— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) November 1, 2014
Usually this is stuff I can ignore but don’t demean sufferers, don’t twist my words, back the fuck up bros.
— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) November 1, 2014
I told a story about being a weird 7 year old. I bet you have some too, old men, that I’d rather not hear. And yes, this is a rage spiral.
— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) November 1, 2014
Sometimes I get so mad I burn right up. Also I wish my sister wasn’t laughing so hard.
— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) November 1, 2014
The websites made the allegations of sexual abuse against Dunham based on the following excerpt from her book:
“Do we all have uteruses?” I asked my mother when I was seven.
“Yes,” she told me. “We’re born with them, and with all our eggs, but they start out very small. And they aren’t ready to make babies until we’re older.” I look at my sister, now a slim, tough one-year-old, and at her tiny belly. I imagined her eggs inside her, like the sack of spider eggs in Charlotte’s Webb, and her uterus, the size of a thimble.
“Does her vagina look like mine?”
“I guess so,” my mother said. “Just smaller.”
One day, as I sat in our driveway in Long Island playing with blocks and buckets, my curiosity got the best of me. Grace was sitting up, babbling and smiling, and I leaned down between her legs and carefully spread open her vagina. She didn’t resist and when I saw what was inside I shrieked.
My mother came running. “Mama, Mama! Grace has something in there!”
My mother didn’t bother asking why I had opened Grace’s vagina. This was within the spectrum of things I did. She just on her knees and looked for herself. It quickly became apparent that Grace had stuffed six or seven pebbles in there. My mother removed them patiently while Grace cackled, thrilled that her prank had been a success.
