Last Saturday, I woke up to an extremely disturbing Facebook message. A man I do not know felt the overwhelming urge to send me a sexually explicit message detailing the things he would like to do to me. I’ll save you the creepy details because no one deserves to read that kind of sh*t on an empty stomach.
After promptly blocking and reporting him for harassment, I stayed in bed for a while just thinking about that message, and several other similar instances that women face on a daily basis. And I got really, really angry. So angry that I’m still pissed about it.
I’m pissed because men feel like they are entitled to anything and everything about a woman. Whether that means sending her unsolicited and explicit messages, or leering and jeering at her from across a street. As if she’s not just trying to live her life without being bothered.
So on behalf of every woman who’s tired of your sh*t, here’s my open letter to the men of Namibia, and the world:
Dear Strange Man I Do Not Know (Or Want to Know, By the Looks of Things),
Don’t call me baby. I am not your skattebol, sweetheart or your size. I have no interest in whether you find me beautiful. If you really wanted to pay me a compliment, you’d do it like a civilised human being instead of screaming, whistling and jeering at me from across the street.
I do not owe you a damn thing. Not my time, not my attention, not my politeness, and certainly not my name and number. Don’t force me into lying that I have a husband just so you’ll leave me alone.
Do not attempt to grab my arm or hold my hand. In a world where women get brutally raped and murdered every single day, your action will be met with a violent reaction. Do not touch me. I am not your property. If I wanted your affection, you would know.
I don’t need your flattery. You leering and jeering at me from across a street, in a mall or anywhere else does not flatter me. I don’t get dressed for you, I don’t do my hair for you and I don’t put on make-up for you either. I don’t look good for you. I look good for me. And as much as you might like what I look like, it is absolutely and positively fine to keep that little nugget of information to yourself.
Don’t draw comparisons between street harassment and ‘macking’ on a woman. There’s a big difference between genuinely approaching a woman and making crude comments on the street. If I want your attention, I’ll let you know. A grown woman has the capacity to flirt, to engage and to seek out a man’s attention, should she want it.
And if, after all of this, you’re still confused about what to do and what not to do when you see a woman somewhere out there living her life, here’s a handy tip: Don’t do anything. Leave that woman alone. Go about your business.
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