Write Down

17th September 2011

Post with 5 notes

Or Something

Guys don’t seem to understand why someone making a kissy-noise from a passing car or saying “what’s uuuup” directly to your butt feels really shitty. Like, it’s a compliment! A stranger just called you sexy! You and your butt can say thanks, or not, and move on with walking around feeling fine (foiiiine). It’s never helped me make my case to try to physical-compliment them into submission, either. Most guys are thrilled and/or tickled to have their junk talked to. 

When I get the chance, I assure whoever will listen that it does suck. It’s yicky. I feel simultaneously unsafe and like they managed to take something from me that I didn’t decide to give them (detailed memories of my ass).

But after I get all Preachy McSelfEsteem, I remember that before I heard these things, or when I haven’t heard them in a while, I get all upset. Cat calls really do feel gross, but there’s another part of me that really wants them. When I first heard someone complain about being hollered at and I hadn’t ever been, it became a yardstick of attractiveness and I was jealous.

Though I don’t at all take back what I said about it feeling horrible. Like there’s a delicate tipping point between gripping my pepper spray, hating dudes everywhere, and “ARE MY BOOBS INVISIBLE BECAUSE I AM LIKE SIX IGNORED HOURS AWAY FROM GETTING NAKED IN A STARBUCKS, OR SOMETHING.”

Tagged: cat callboobshollermadself esteemfunnyguysgirlsjealous