To the stranger on Instagram who thinks it’s okay to talk to women like they’re a piece of meat: Stop it.
I am in no way asking for your sexual attention. The amount of skin that is showing in this picture? Most of my facial epidermis and a scandalous peep of forearm.
You see that kid? I’m sharing part of my hobby that makes me the happiest: making children smile.
And you had to get on the internet and ruin an innocent picture with your stupid words.
You, sir, are the reason why I learned to slouch so that nobody’s eyes wandered to certain places.
It’s men like you who taught a 13-year-old me that my body is sexually appealing when a middle-aged truck driver honked at my friend and I as we were walking home from school. If I didn’t stop wearing shorts, I would still get those stupid honks.
It’s men like you who ruined my Valentine’s Day date when I traumatically learned that wearing heels and a dress above the knees means you’re available for prostitution proposals. I was 21, on my first date ever, and didn’t know anything about fashion. I never made that mistake again.
I am also not your:
Sweetheart, sweetie, dear, baby, or dog (so stop whistling at me like I am one).
I didn’t ask for your “compliment”, but I will ask for something from you: STOP. I don’t want your twisted idea of attention.
