Like the Louisiana Purchase, but With More Dragons

My friends and I were totally convinced for years that we were magic. Actually, I was totally convinced and power of persuasion and awesomeness had everyone else half playing along and half agreeing. Of course, I branched out and decided that it was cooler to be a god than a witch, because not only could I control stuff but people would have to obey me and sacrifice cookies to appease me. I wonder what it says about me that even supernatural abilities weren’t enough to slake my thirst for power? It wasn’t good enough to just be able to set things on fire with my mind- no, I had to also have supreme power over the universe and be worshiped.

Everyone thought I was so responsible and kind, but underneath that charming eleven year old exterior was a tiny vicious dictator just waiting to be set free. I guess there’s a reason Pottermore put me in Slytherin…

Once I realized the God thing wasn’t going to work out I went back to witch, and I never quite managed to shake it. I still love tarot cards, and ‘magical psycho’ is my backup plan should my grownup life not work out. That’s totally valid, right?

“I want the guys who regularly perpetuate the same bullshit that the list was made of to know that, congratulations on your high self-esteem, but you are mistaken if you think anyone is interested in your opinion of their body parts. I want them to know that I don’t have to smile, or react at all, to their backhanded compliments. I want them to know that I don’t exist for them to look at, I don’t get dressed for them, and however I have put myself together on this day—it is not for you.”

Tavi’s the greatest. I honestly don’t know how many times or how many ways I’ll have to say this until people understand.

What is interesting is that some girls don’t even fully get this. I went for a ten minute walk to the shops near my flat in Brooklyn the other day, and I lost count of how many catcalls and leers I got. When one man leaned out of his fourth floor window to holler at me I nearly gave up. It was infuriating and dehumanizing and all I wanted to yell was that I was out because I needed curtains, not so I could improve the view. I’m always too nervous to say these things though, because you never know who’s going to get ugly- they’ve already shown they are comfortable infringing on your personal space and ignoring your boundaries, so who knows where they will stop? At that point you have no guarantee, because you are dependent not on standard laws or common decency and respect but on their desires and morals and boundaries, and you have no idea what those are.

I told that story to two friends after. One totally got it and commiserated, and the other (who would not describe herself as a feminist, and thought masturbation was only for older women until I told her otherwise) was totally blown away. She didn’t think it would upset her, but also repeatedly said she’d never thought about it that way. She said a few times that she wished she had learned to look at her life like that (she didn’t specify what ‘like that’ meant, but in context I’m assuming she meant critically and through a feminist lens). She said she’d been raised to think male approval was important, and even if she rolled her eyes she’d feel flattered. I sort of felt like I’d blown her mind as much as I had with the first masturbation conversation.

I’ve made that same walk a few times since, and haven’t gotten nearly the same level of male attention. That day was definitely a fluke in sheer volume, but it was pretty par for the course in terms of the overall situation. It’s New York, so I do get leered at and catcalled on a daily basis, even if not quite that much. I hate being dependent on the whims of strange men for how my morning commute will feel. I wear headphones and don’t make eye contact, but I shouldn’t have to self-cocoon to avoid feeling objectified.

This is such a great story, and I admit I actually teared up reading it. What an amazing and brave thing to do.

Also how much do I love Rookie for telling young girls things like this? I just missed Sassy, and that still bums me out. I found my own way, but it was an awkward process. I would have loved to have things like this to read about for inspiration.