The curse between my legs
Sometimes I feel like I was born with a curse between my legs. A curse that dictates what I wear how I should carry myself and who I can hang out with. As a women I am a sitting duck I’m not safe everywhere I go because of the curse between my legs. I am always in fear for my safety because some entitled men might violent me. Strip me off all my power and self-worth, trample on my dignity and infringe on my right to safety. Society is not going to try and stand by me or cry with me but will ask what I was wearing. My neighbour will think to herself I wanted it because I defy the normative values women are raised by, all my friends are males. I like hanging out with the guy from across the street and go clubbing with him on weekends. The police lady I report this to, instead of getting trigger itchy from my story will ask whether I had anything to drink or did I give him the wrong impression as if any of those things matter. I did not choose to be born with this curse but, when I d...