TW: Street harassment, rape culture.
This is my hair, these are the shoes you liked. About fifteen minutes ago, you commented on them.
“Hey! I like your hair! I like your shoes! They get me hard!” Your two friends joined in, commenting on them.
Maybe you didn’t notice my “THIS IS WHAT A FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE TOTE BAG”. Maybe you didn’t know that I’m an impulsive person.
So when I turn around and ask you that what would you do if someone told your sister that, talked to your mother like that it’s because I want you to think about that. I want you to realize how when I walk by a group of men I tense up, waiting for the verbal blows that you honestly think are compliments.
I want you to think about how I feel, how small and worthless I feel. How shitty it is to realize that you think I exist to get you hard.
So when I, foolishly, start calling you a dickbag, and you react with shock I have to ask why. Why are you so surprised I’m not going to take this crap from you? It’s not because I’m a really brave person, or even a great feminist. It’s just that I’m so angry at the systems in place that make my anger unacceptable, that make your sexual harassment acceptable.