It shouldn’t be, but it is.

It shouldn’t be that I will often hide my breasts,
For fear of comments and social persecution.
For if I do not, I am called a slut and a whore,
As if my chest is the problem and concealment the solution.

It shouldn’t be that I cover my natural and womanly body,
As breasts are for milk and the milk for my children,
Because society believes that the sole purpose of my chest
Is to attract the opposite sex, to endear and seduce them.

It shouldn’t be that as I wear my eloquent new skirt
I deal with onlookers, men hooting at the size of my arse.
Because it’s acceptable to heckle women with words that may hurt
And it’s okay to tolerate it, and quietly wonder when it will pass.

It shouldn’t be that as I walk down that dark road,
I silently speculate the character of the man walking opposite me.
After all he is stronger, and after all I am alone,
He could be harmless, or he could damage my body.

It shouldn’t be that as I walk to my car at night,
I feel safer with the keys in my hand for fear that someone may approach me,
Someone stronger or tougher, who will put up a good fight
Who could shatter my self confidence instantly.

It shouldn’t be that I have driven home in tears,
Because I was made to act against my will
All because when I said no—he “did not hear,”
So that he could get his cheap thrill.

It shouldn’t be, but it is.

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Relephant:

Dear Men: My Yoga Pants (& What’s Inside Them) are Not an Open Invitation.

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Author: Katie Gard

Editor: Yoli Ramazzina

Photo: Pixabay