I just want to go to the corner store and come home. THAT’S IT. A totally blase, unremarkable, forgettable errand. But then you roll down your car window and yell at me and the simple task of getting trash bags becomes a stressful, offensive, slightly dehumanizing experience.
I’m not looking for an “experience” when I go to the store. I just want to go to the corner store and come home.
I want to be able to leave my house in the summer & wear WHATEVER I want without feeling nervous that some guy’s gonna walk behind me and talk about my ass. I want to ride my bike to the beach without hearing that I’m sexy, without being stared at, without some guy rolling down his car window to whistle.
I want to go to the corner store to get trash bags, and I want to be able to walk back home without feeling disgusting about myself because YOU needed to point out how I look.
No dude. My decision to put on jean shorts instead of pants this morning really wan’t that loaded. I’m not looking for your attention or approval. It’s just hot outside.
The groups are the worst. One guy mumbling to you or shouting from his car as you pass is offensive, a nuisance and unnecessary. But the groups? They SCARE me. They ALL feed off each other and every second you don’t react just gives them permission to keep going.
But then when you do react, you’re a cunt, a slut, a stupid bitch.
I don’t get dressed and then walk around outside to attract your attention; I don’t want it, I don’t need it. I literally want NOTHING to do with you.
What I want is for you to let me get on with my day.
What I want is to be more than my appearance.
What I want is to go to the store to buy trash bags and come home. That’s it.
[see this post on Hollaback.org]