You’ve sexualized my body since I was a young girl.
You’ve dissociated my breasts, hips, and butt from my body as if they are only objects and not part of my whole being.
You’ve given me models to look up to, who wear whatever is in style, but then yell that I am asking for it when I wear the same thing.
You’ve told me my sacred pussy smells and is dirty and I need to cover it up with flower scents.
You’ve told me to be pretty but not powerful.
You’ve told me to cross my legs and act like a lady.
You’ve told me to not say anything if I have nothing nice to say.
You’ve sexualized me my entire life but then told me that if I feel sexy, it’s wrong.
But what I’m telling you is that I am a respected woman whether I’m naked, fully clothed, embracing my sexuality or not—and you no longer have a say.
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