I've always noticed when I walk down the street and men stare. Usually it's at my boobs, sometimes it's at my legs. Some men aren't even afraid to shout something at me.

"Damn, look at those legs. Mmm I love when they wear heels."

"Those are some big boobs."

"Girl you look good today."

Every single time it boils my blood. Every single time it makes me anxious. Every single time it makes me feel less than I am. I keep walking and throw a biting, "F*ck off" over my shoulder. But that doesn't take the pain of it away.

I'll text my mom when these things happen, and she'll always tell me not to let it get to me. She didn't understand it all until I came home from the summer, and she saw it all for her own eyes.

At the grocery store. At the mall. On the street. She would watch as men would stare at me. She would shoot them a look, daring them to turn their eyes away. Even when they got the hint, they would turn around again when they thought she wasn't looking.

I saw it boil my mom's blood, the same way it boiled mine. It didn't matter what I was wearing. It didn't matter if I was wearing a padded bra or a bralette. It didn't matter if I was wearing shorts or leggings.

Men. Stare. That's the bottom line. They think it's okay. They think it's a compliment. They think we don't notice.

But we do. And it takes a toll. I've gotten used to it and I feel in control when I throw that "F*ck off" over my shoulder. I don't notice often when they stare at the grocery store or at the mall or on the street. But my mom does. And that's where a line needs to be drawn.

No woman should ever have to feel less than because of the way a man looks at her or because of what he yells at her. But even worse, no daughter should have to see the frustration in her mother's eyes when she sees a man degrading her daughter.

So, to those men with the wandering eyes, I throw one more "F*ck off" over my shoulder. Not for me, but for my mom, who doesn't deserve to see the way you treat me.