(no subject)
Like, oh, 90% of the women on LJ, I felt absolutely sick, reading this post, and the seven pages of comments that followed. I don't know anything about the original poster that he didn't write in this post, but for now that feels like enough. I am appalled at the extent to which this guy does not get it, does not get that it is not all right to ask women to offer up their bodies to him or any other man (or woman), does not get that the reason he still recalls the terrors of high school so vividly is that his emotional growth appears to have halted right there, does not get that someone who, in his estimation, is "obviously putting her assets on display" or has "dressed to impress" has not given him implicit permission to approach her, to make personal comments to her, or to touch her in any way. He does not get that this is the kind of thing a lot of women have to live with every day--that we are groped, that we are catcalled, that we are intruded upon, that we are exhausted from the effort of saying no, of walking away, of avoiding eye contact so we can be left alone.
But nothing makes me sicker than this:
By the end of the evening, women were coming up to us. "My breasts," they asked shyly, having heard about the project. "Are they... are they good enough to be touched?" And lo, we showed them how beautiful their bodies were without turning it into something tawdry.
I keep reading those lines over and over, and they make me feel just as nauseated every time. I don't even know if this part of the story is true. I know there are women out there who hate themselves enough to ask that question of a strange man, who need that kind of validation and attention, however meaningless and fleeting, to feel OK about their own bodies. But as much as I'd like to tell those women that no one else--and especially not some strange man who's leering at you--gets to decide whether or not your body is "good enough," in this case it doesn't even really matter whether or not there were actually women who actually asked this question. What matters is that there's a man telling this story like it's a beautiful and positive thing, like that's not a totally fucked-up question to ask a stranger, like he's proud that he and his buddies got to bestow self-esteem and validity on these poor, self-hating women. The obvious thrill he gets from it--this power to grant beauty and confidence through groping--makes me feel profoundly uncomfortable, and disgusted, and sad. And this is about power, not empowerment, no matter what anyone is pretending.
I am really, really tired of this.
But nothing makes me sicker than this:
By the end of the evening, women were coming up to us. "My breasts," they asked shyly, having heard about the project. "Are they... are they good enough to be touched?" And lo, we showed them how beautiful their bodies were without turning it into something tawdry.
I keep reading those lines over and over, and they make me feel just as nauseated every time. I don't even know if this part of the story is true. I know there are women out there who hate themselves enough to ask that question of a strange man, who need that kind of validation and attention, however meaningless and fleeting, to feel OK about their own bodies. But as much as I'd like to tell those women that no one else--and especially not some strange man who's leering at you--gets to decide whether or not your body is "good enough," in this case it doesn't even really matter whether or not there were actually women who actually asked this question. What matters is that there's a man telling this story like it's a beautiful and positive thing, like that's not a totally fucked-up question to ask a stranger, like he's proud that he and his buddies got to bestow self-esteem and validity on these poor, self-hating women. The obvious thrill he gets from it--this power to grant beauty and confidence through groping--makes me feel profoundly uncomfortable, and disgusted, and sad. And this is about power, not empowerment, no matter what anyone is pretending.
I am really, really tired of this.