Sometimes I wish I could wear a big sign above my head that says “my body/clothes/existence is not there for your entertainment (so fuck off)”.
Like pretty much every woman I have been given the head-to-toe look, been wolf-whistled at, been shouted at by passing cars as I walk down the street. It doesn’t happen very often to me. I don’t tend to go out to bars or clubs, but the three or four times I have been out somewhere to dance, I have been made feel uncomfortable by people coming up to me and invading my personal space, or giving me suggestive looks.
I hate it. I hate hate hate it. It puts me off going places and dancing, it puts me off wanting to talk to people in the street. I wish people would realise that my body is not their for their entertainment. I am not a piece of meat you evaluate before taking home. If you happen to like the way I look, then look once and then move on. But don’t yell at me out the window as your car passes me. Don’t tell me I’m hot as the first thing you say to me, because if I wasn’t so nice, you would probably find my fist in your face (Not that that one’s ever actually happened). If I tell you that I am not having dinner with you as a date, you should bloody well respect that and not keep quizzing me as to “what my problem is with dates” (that one has happened).
My body is mine. I will wear what I want. None of it is an invitation to you for anything. I’m not interested in you, I’m not interested in anyone, I’m identifying as asexual, goddamnit. Stop thinking I have to be interested in you. Stop thinking my body is all about you.
Got that? Well, let’s move on to something I hate even more.
People telling me to get over myself.
I think feminists (or maybe anyone who does social justice work?) suffers from this. The kind of snide comments, laced with disdain and a hint of “this girl has serious issues” that tell us to stop harping on about all these trivial matters and just accept it. Just a few days ago when telling my mum and my sister how I wouldn’t mind going out dancing once in a while, but that the idea of people coming up and dancing right in front of me and thrusting their pelvis towards me and checking me out with that “you know you want me” look was something that turned me off. And my (sixteen-year-old) sister tells me to get over myself. Because it’s just the way things are. Like the argument that wearing a short skirt has the consequence of maybe being raped while walking around town. And on top of that, insinuating that no-one would be interested in me anyway.
Well screw that. Some people might be happy with keeping things that way, but this feminist is going to call bullshit where she sees it. And there’s no way in hell she’s going to get over herself anytime soon.