top of page
  • Writer's picturejacky

my smile wasn't an invitation

a light smile formed on my lips as those people walked by, a friendly gesture of mine.

but my smile wasn’t an invitation to stop and start to harass me, to sexualize me or do any gestures into my direction that are suggestive. all those dirty looks, that uncomfortable intensive eye contact, looking up and down - scrutinizing my body.

neither was me walking by an invitation to touch me. where do you get the right to touch a person without asking beforehand, out of nowhere, out of my field of vision, to put your hand on my waist from behind, even if it was just to push me aside a little, dont you dare fucking touch me, after you said those things to me, to my face.

it's been a long time since i've felt like this - helpless in a situation i can't influence - so powerless.

far too many say it was harmless, but why do i feel like i'm 12 years old again, all these comments, this harassment without justification. i do not know how to deal with it, never in my life have i felt this unsafe in an environment.

so much anger is building up inside of me, against all those people who take the right to utter words, to commit acts without explaining themselves. listening to these words "too bad it hasn't changed this year", you have deliberately put young women in a situation that is unsafe, traumatic and cannot be excused with justification.

fight or flight - fight or flight - fight or flight - fight or flight - fight or flight - fight or flight - fight or flight

i froze.

and let it all happen, because nether would have worked, i couldn't fight an i couldn't run away, so i froze.


bottom of page