A talk about growing up as a girl and then a woman in a culture that teaches you to devalue women and girls, to accept that you are an object and that your value is determined by the way men perceive you, to accept that men will do what they do and take what they want, and you are only safe if a man decides you are safe, to deal with any confusion or rage about this on your own…and why we need to be doing a lot better than this for all of our daughters (and sons)…and for ourselves, too.
The part near the end about being put in situations you didn't ask to take part in. Ugh! Yes.
I have small breasts and never wear a bra at home. One hot summer day I needed to quickly run to the grocery store; I was wearing a baggy t-shirt, medium green, nothing see-through or form fitting, and forgot about not having on a bra. I'm happily minding my own business, do the self check out, head to the car, and I get confronted in the parking lot by a guy in his mid 20s (I was about 55 at the time). He opened the conversation by commenting on my eyeglass frames. It quickly morphed to "I and a few other guys were following you through the store because your nipples were hard. Does that bother you? I didn't know if I should say something." or something along those lines. Guess what I did? Chuckled politely and did the "No, no, it's OK." Got home and told my husband about it. His reaction? "Sweet, other guys think my wife is hot! I don't mind if they look."
JFC! DUDE! COME ON! IT WAS CREEPY AF AND I DIDN'T ASK FOR IT!!!! (BTW, my nipples weren't hard. I breastfed both of my kids and now they're more prominent than they had been pre-kids. I was not getting turned on by the mere presence of those creepers in my proximity, like they seemed to believe).
The day of my thyroidectomy postop check and after two weeks of sequestering at home I stopped at a thrift shop on the way home. It's windy. My hair's a mess and it's brassy colored. I have a massive bloody scar on my neck. I'm red-faced and greasy and exhausted. Some random guy just out of the blue goes "I like your hair." I gave him side eye and left the aisle. Looked down and realized my shirt was probably open enough at the neck that he caught a glimpse of cleavage from his taller vantage point. Look, if you're scoping out our bodies, just say it at this point, because we're all pretty much thinking it when you use those weird "conversation starters."
One of my Army darkroom instructors teaching us how to load exposed film onto the developing reels. "Your hands are so soft and warm." OK, and? Why is that relevant to my training?
The other Army photography instructor that insisted all of his female students get a ride on his motorcycle to his place to get a hair cut.
The high school driving instructor that fondled himself when the girls were in the driver's seat.
Just sitting here shaking my head and feeling so sad and angry for all of us. I do think this is powerful, though. Every woman showing up here is saying, yeah, me too. We’re not alone, we’re not little girls anymore. We have our voices and we have each other. We just have to fight for a much better world for girls and women. We can do it, I believe in us 🔥🔥
The part near the end about being put in situations you didn't ask to take part in. Ugh! Yes.
I have small breasts and never wear a bra at home. One hot summer day I needed to quickly run to the grocery store; I was wearing a baggy t-shirt, medium green, nothing see-through or form fitting, and forgot about not having on a bra. I'm happily minding my own business, do the self check out, head to the car, and I get confronted in the parking lot by a guy in his mid 20s (I was about 55 at the time). He opened the conversation by commenting on my eyeglass frames. It quickly morphed to "I and a few other guys were following you through the store because your nipples were hard. Does that bother you? I didn't know if I should say something." or something along those lines. Guess what I did? Chuckled politely and did the "No, no, it's OK." Got home and told my husband about it. His reaction? "Sweet, other guys think my wife is hot! I don't mind if they look."
JFC! DUDE! COME ON! IT WAS CREEPY AF AND I DIDN'T ASK FOR IT!!!! (BTW, my nipples weren't hard. I breastfed both of my kids and now they're more prominent than they had been pre-kids. I was not getting turned on by the mere presence of those creepers in my proximity, like they seemed to believe).
The day of my thyroidectomy postop check and after two weeks of sequestering at home I stopped at a thrift shop on the way home. It's windy. My hair's a mess and it's brassy colored. I have a massive bloody scar on my neck. I'm red-faced and greasy and exhausted. Some random guy just out of the blue goes "I like your hair." I gave him side eye and left the aisle. Looked down and realized my shirt was probably open enough at the neck that he caught a glimpse of cleavage from his taller vantage point. Look, if you're scoping out our bodies, just say it at this point, because we're all pretty much thinking it when you use those weird "conversation starters."
One of my Army darkroom instructors teaching us how to load exposed film onto the developing reels. "Your hands are so soft and warm." OK, and? Why is that relevant to my training?
The other Army photography instructor that insisted all of his female students get a ride on his motorcycle to his place to get a hair cut.
The high school driving instructor that fondled himself when the girls were in the driver's seat.
JUST STOP ALREADY!!! IT'S NOT FLATTERING!
Just sitting here shaking my head and feeling so sad and angry for all of us. I do think this is powerful, though. Every woman showing up here is saying, yeah, me too. We’re not alone, we’re not little girls anymore. We have our voices and we have each other. We just have to fight for a much better world for girls and women. We can do it, I believe in us 🔥🔥