Perhaps there are people in the world who feel empowered when someone catcalls them on the street, but I am not one of them. Receiving a degrading comment from a random person on the street sparks not only fear, but also rage inside of me. As this type of behavior has become less acceptable over the years, I am sure many others feel the same as I do.

Now, I have no problem with one of my friends seeing me and calling out, “Hey, sexy mama” or something similar. I have a problem with that random dude on the street who began sexualizing my body as I walked by him. That man who had the audacity to comment further with more enthusiasm as I turned around to glare at him. Or maybe the man who works in that cafeteria and began to comment on my body as I walked by.

Sexual harassment and catcalling have been denormalized, yet still are prevalent in our male-dominated culture. Men and women alike are prey yet predators to this monstrosity, and it knows no age, ethnicity, or country. I can think of a few handful of times where a man called out comments about my body--none of them desired. The wording varied each time, but the concepts were the same. My large booty that jiggled in a special way with a large bosom. The names made me feel disgusting and became even more degrading when I refused to acknowledge the speaker.

But my body is my body, is it not? Can I live in a world where I may own myself and not hear my mother say that my shirt shows too much or my father disapprove of how short something is? We are people, not animals, though you may not believe that because we cave into our animalistic nature at the slightest bit of skin, chunk of muscle or curvy body. If you have a body, you become a victim.

I am not the only victim. We are many. Yet society says that I am asking for it because I must either be dressed or acting promiscuously. That I deserved to be treated like a piece of meat because I must not be a respectable person. Sexual harassment knows no size, shape, or gender--we can all be victims.