I am afraid of men
Not all men
Some I like
But some
Some terrify me
Like the ones who make rape jokes
Like consent is so funny
Abuse a great punchline
Such violation nothing
But the height of hilarity
It makes me think it’s something
They’ve never had to worry about
Something they’ve never feared —
Having their body’s privacy and autonomy
So crudely desecrated
They are the ones who catcall when I go running
Or wolf-whistle, or jeer
“Slut”
Because my fitted activewear is apparently
Some unconscious signal
That I’m after their sleazy attentions
Yeah, of course
I must be “asking for it”
Like all women are, according to them
Or else I’d be wearing a baggy t-shirt and trackies
Wouldn’t I?
To censor my womanly shape?
To shield them from temptation?
I mean, really
What do I expect?
These are the ones who observe women
Like they’re eyeing helpless prey
Slabs of fresh meat
Whose choice to wear tight jeans and short skirts
Can only be interpreted as an open invitation
That screams “You can fuck me”
They say we “want it”
“Beg for it” even
They say we only have ourselves to blame
According to them, it’s our fault for drawing such “blurred lines”
They are the ones who stalk the streets at night
In drunken hordes that reek of testosterone
Hollering down the street
At girls who walk alone
They offer to buy you drinks
Because basic math tells them
That one, plus one, plus one more
Plus you
Equals an easy target
A simple lay
Another notch to carve triumphantly on their bedpost
Then there’s the ones who use “bitch” and “cunt”
Like punctuation
And terms like “frothing” as casual slang
Without pause or apology
Without any sense of disrespect
And they roll their eyes
When you make any kind of objection
“What are you” they say
“Some kind of Feminist?”
Why, yes
Yes, I am
But all they see
Is an uptight, angry, whinging woman
These men make me feel
Unsafe
Small
Lesser than
They destabilise and threaten the fragile confidence
I’ve managed to find in being female
While so much of society
Seems to keep telling me not to
They turn my pride to shame
My security to fear
My power to vulnerability
They make me want to disappear
To melt away
To be silent
To just let myself drown in their contempt
As I stare hopelessly up at a glass ceiling they have built
That feels so infinite
Don’t get me wrong
Some men are nice
They treat me as an equal
Listen to my voice
See my edges
Instead of just my curves
These men exist
I know them
And it’s not them I fear to meet
When walking home at midnight
It’s the others
And it shames me
How scared I am of them
Because in my fear, I know
I’m letting them take tiny, precious pieces of myself
And crush them to dust
In their groping, ass-grabbing
Pony-tail pulling hands
[ssba]