Stop.
'Stop' should be the only word I have to say in this article, but time and again a distinct disregard and lack of respect for my humanity presents itself.
Yes, I'm looking at you, guy I was having a great conversation with a few months ago. Until, of course, he noticed my tattoos and basically made me feel like a perfectly baked turkey placed in front of the eyes of starving children. Please explain to me how we went from a normal conversation about Youtube, to you literally saying, "You take some banging pictures damn. Youre a hottie ;P ". To all those people who are about to criticize me of not being able to take a compliment, I then said, "Haha, thank you!". I proceeded to try and talk about dogs (because who couldn't get distracted by dogs?). This guy. He then said, "Those legs of yours tho mmm sexy ;P".
So, let me break down this conversation for everyone. For one, apparently my legs have superpowers and are like metal rods wedged in one's mind: completely disconnecting the section which produces English and the section which performs the actions of typing basic English. Secondly, this person was so desperate to let me know that he was basically salivating over his phone that he had to add the winky 'P' emoji, not once, but twice. Twice. Is it appropriate for me to remind you that my legs are literally fatty flesh walking sticks that allow me to get from one place to another?
I enjoy artwork, and I love the artwork that I have incorporated onto my body. I get tattoos for my own enjoyment they are meaningful to me in ways that I don't have to explain to anybody. I know, shocking. A lot of boys I see (looking at you, Tinder boys) say something along the lines of, "love a girl with tats" or "plus if you got tattoos" in their bios. You do realize that I did not get my tattoos to satisfy your male gaze, right?
For those of you in the back who are about to say, "Well, Tinder isn't where the real or good boys are". Luckily, I have plenty of stories about boys in real life who have made me feel like some kind of walking exhibit meant for their stares. Now I'm looking at you, deli boy at City Market who referred to me as "Legs" and then continued on and on and on about how sexy my tattoos were. Legs, really?
Now, I'm going to address those cranky people who are going to point out that I don't have to wear shorts, or better yet, get tattoos at all. Just because I get tattoos should not mean that I have to feel demeaned or even frightened when a man gets just a little bit too close to me in order to admire me. Just because I have tattoos does not mean I should have to suffer in 90 degree heat.
If you are upset by what I have said, perhaps you need to reevaluate yourself because you are more than likely adding to the oppressive culture that we live in or you have been a leer offender. If you are mad at what I have said, I have a few words for you:
Stop,
and read this article again.
