Thoughts as I wait for the light to change at Yonge and Wellesley


Every day, I wear my sexuality as a weapon
In your face to keep me safe
Tits out
Short skirts
Femme ’cause it’s me and also fuck you
Overflowing with ferocity
Expecting your looks
Defying your expectations of
Proper

I will not hide
It makes no difference
If anything
I get catcalled less when I’m
In your face

I’ve had your eyes on me for thirty years
I’ve felt shame
Fear
Rage
And now, resistance

But now I’m back to rage
Because you aren’t only looking at me

Your new target
My fierce
Shameless
Confident
Imperfectly perfect
Barely pubescent
Child

I don’t know if she heard you
This morning on her bike
At the stop light
When you said

Oh that’s a cute one
But wait I think she’s still a bit young

You don’t get to break this one
To create shame where there’s none
To instil fear
You don’t get to have this one

Not only will I not let you have her
She won’t let you either.

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2 Comments

  1. Caro said,

    September 4, 2013 at 8:34 pm

    Strong mother, strong daughter.

    Beautifully written.

    I’m glad to know you both. Thanks for blazing a trail for us.

  2. September 6, 2013 at 8:50 pm

    […] And then I read something like this and my faith is somewhat restored and I know that the daughters we are all raising will be […]


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