As a girl, growing up I was scolded throughout my youth for what I wore.
Things like, “your shoulders can’t be showing,” “keep your jacket on,” “boys misunderstand the shorts you're wearing,” were lashes I frequently heard at about the same age that my brain acts like a sponge, elementary school.
I still have a memory of my 3rd grade picture day. I’m wearing my freshly washed denim ruffled skirt, white tights, and a white flowered tank top, with my mother’s necklace. As I approached the stage I started to become excited for my turn in front of the camera, I was such a ham for the spotlight. Before I could ease up to the next spot a teacher turned around and scoffed at me.
“It’s picture day and your mother sends you out in a provocative top…. do you own a jacket?”
Along with learning about how a caterpillar turns into a butterfly and how to read books. I was also taught to not show off my back, legs, shoulders, or chest unless I was comfortable with being considered scandalous.
The words didn’t stop there and followed me throughout my teen years. Worst words spit from teachers and staff like, “I’ve seen girls who work in the corner in that same outfit,” “boys don’t like it when it’s that easy,” “no one wants to see that,” and “you’re a distraction.”
If I was wearing shorts with my butt half out, deep V-necks, and scandalous skirts I would understand the staff's concerns for my attire. Rather it would be tank tops, full coverage shorts, and dresses that had me sent home in the middle of class to change. I adore fashion and hated to minimize it just because my shorts didn’t roll down to my knees or that my tank tops weren’t four fingers long.
“You’re a distraction for the boys,” was a quote that has made my feminist gears turn, and wonder why was I being punished because a boy can’t keep his mind and what’s in his pants separated? Maybe in the 1800’s a clear view of a woman’s shoulder or back was enough to be a turn on. In the century we live in now sex is everywhere, there are more than enough shoulders, butt cheeks, boobs, and legs out in the media. Men seem to be tamed enough to watch a model half naked grinding on a car while eating a hamburger on a TV commercial or walk by a Victoria’s Secret poster without getting “distracted.”
I’ve learned that their words were only opinions. I knew I wasn’t dressed like a street worker in my everyday clothing. Like other women, I was put at war with a stigma. I was born female for many reasons, but none of them is to be sexualized. I work hard and eat right for the figure I have, and I’m probably speaking for thousands of women when I say that. Battling stigma has only made my confidence stronger. I’m comfortable in whatever I wear, and using my pepper spray when it will be needed.
