Dear Tell All: I’ve been aware of males staring at me ever since elementary school. For whatever reason, the world considers me beautiful, and it’s been a lifelong curse.
I know how ridiculous that sounds, and how mad people will be if I complain about it. That’s why I never have complained about it, until now. With the world suddenly acknowledging sexual harassment of all kinds, I finally feel emboldened to speak out about the daily humiliations faced by so-called attractive girls and women.
I can already hear the groans from people dealing with bigger problems than my own. And I understand that. However, I invite you to consider what it feels like to be regarded as a thing — a pair of breasts, a set of legs, a derriere, a facial structure — by almost every guy you encounter.
I’d like to think I’m more than that: a human being with thoughts, feelings, hopes, achievements. But it’s a constant struggle when so many of the men I pass on the street shout out rude comments, and when so many of the men I know sneak glances at my chest as we speak.
Until now, I’ve suffered in silence. I wear clothes that call no attention to myself and pretend not to notice when men eye me up and down. But I’m considering my options in this #metoo moment. What can I do differently to reclaim my self-respect?
The Blonde
Dear The Blonde: I’m sorry to hear about your dehumanizing experiences, and I’m thrilled that you’re ready to stand up for yourself. Here are a couple suggestions to get you started:
- The next time a stranger shouts out a rude comment, shout back something like: “Acting like a dick won’t make yours any bigger!” If you don’t feel safe saying it, simply think it while wearing a defiant expression. Either way, you can start regarding yourself as a fighter rather than a victim.
- The next time someone you know ogles your chest, call him out on it. At the polite end of the spectrum, you can simply say, “Excuse me, but it makes me uncomfortable when you stare at my breasts.” If you want to send a harsher message, try: “Is there something on my shirt? Oh, yeah, it’s your eyes, jackass!”
My most important suggestion, The Blonde, is to stop apologizing for your distress. Nobody is “groaning” about your problems, and nobody thinks you’re “ridiculous.” At least nobody who’s worth a minute of your time.
Do you have a question about life or love in Madison?
Write Tell All, 100 State St., Madison, WI 53703. Or email tell all@isthmus.com.
