Sexual Harrassment

Societal stigmas have led to sexual harassment among our generation to be not
only overlooked, but frankly accepted. Through grade school it was ingrained in us
that anyone being mean to you was a sign of affection. We quickly evolved this thinking
into believing that unwelcome stares, overt grabs and being vocally sexualized by our
peers was nothing more than a compliment.
Teachers tried to correct this behavior by placing rules on attire and preaching
that our bodies were sacred temples. If we were sexualized it was our own fault. We
learned how to victim blame before we knew we were the victims.
Education was secondary to appearance. People were no longer measured by
quality of character. Being taken from class for dress code violations became common.
Sex appeal made you less deserving of an education but being uncomfortable in a
learning environment surrounded by blatant and vulgar harassment made you
“unable to take a joke” and “stuck up”.
Silence became a second language. Rape culture became a reality. You’re
expected to be hot but not enough to draw attention. You’re expected to have witty
replies to cat calls but to never be genuinely upset.
Everyone has an opinion on your body. You’re a prude or a slut or a temple.
You’re told how to dress and how to talk and how to hold yourself. You’re told you must
look respectable or pretty or sexy.
Nobody told us is that we aren’t a product for public consumption.
My body is not a sacred shrine for me to uphold like a silenced monk. My body is
not a secret. My body is not a sex object or a polished decoration. My body has
matching anatomy with over 3.5 billion people on this earth, making it nothing short
of incredible that there are still taboos about it. Most of all though, my body is mine. It
does not require anyone else’s judgement or opinion. I am allowed to be my own person
and the sole owner of my body. I am not the length of my skirt or my aesthetic appeal
to the opposite sex. I am the content of my character