I am a woman.
I don’t need attention. I need respect.
I deserve respect.
I can’t remember if there was a day without a walking piece of shit calling out my attention while walking along the streets. I mean, I’m not sexy or even pretty (and I’m not saying that those sexy and pretty girls deserve this treatment) in my own personal opinion, but still, I experience catcalling almost everyday. They thought, what they’re doing is some sort of compliment but just so they know, I find it so disturbing. I’m pissed and insulted.
Calling you ‘miss’, ‘babe’, ‘baby’, ‘honey’, ‘sweetie’, etc. Asking you “where are you going?”, “are you alone?”, “should I join you” following you until they get bored. Whistling party here and there. Watching your legs as if they’re watching a movie. As if they actually want to throw their freaking eye balls and let them roll on someone’s cleavage. They seemed so hungry. And that’s the scariest part of it. It’s like they’re going to eat you and after they enjoyed you, they’ll spare your life. Because you’re nonsense if not because of your body. Because you’re a woman. Just a woman.
Actually, they’re telling us to wear decent clothes for us to gain their respect. Like? Who are you? And why do I need to beg just for you to respect me? They’re complaining about how we dress up—when they were actually satisfied scanning the girl’s whole body. Now, they’re acting like a victim when they’re actually the suspect. Nice game. I’ll wear whatever I want. Control your lustful hormones and let’s respect each other. Simple.
No one deserves to be harassed.
No one deserves to feel dirty.
Equality. If a woman has no right to abuse a man, then a man has no right to abuse a woman either. But if a man can’t respect a woman, then women fight for their rights. Simple logic.
It’s actually scary. Whatever you wear, you’ll experience that kind of harassment. It’s difficult to feel at ease. And sometimes, it’s like they’re asking for it secretly, but the moment they saw it, a woman is a hoe.
It’s not like I’m pertaining to all the boys. I’m not generalizing. I mean, I respect them as a human. In fact, I got a father, cousins and some friends, but some boys triggers me so much. So now, if you’re one of them, let me ask you one thing: Before doing all your dirty shits, why can’t you ask yourself first: who the heck do you think you are?
Fearless Juliet 