For all the boys who I’ve laid with. It’s like you took a piece of me with you. I wasn’t even complete when you came to me. Now I’m left with even less then what I’ve started.
How do I allow anyone to wait at my door mat, touching my door knobs, finding the key, coming into my home, eating my food, laying on my couch, and pretending like my home is theirs, when I’m not even present in my home.
This is a slap to the face for the guy that grabbed my crotch when I was dancing on the cage. Just because I’m dancing doesn’t mean I want you to touch me. This is a slap to the face for those two men who slapped my ass on the street in Minneapolis. My leathery leggings did not imply I wanted to be groped on the streets. I said nothing to them, and the girls around me said nothing either. I let them take my power.
This is a slap to the face for the guy that slapped my ass in Las Vegas. I wanted to have fun and have a dance off with you. I didn’t understand that by us having fun and dancing, you thought you could violate me. I ran away feeling so upset. But this was the moment I took my power back. I walked up right to you. I looked you in the eyes. I knew no one will stand up for me. I demanded an apology. And you apologized. I said “Never Think You can Touch a Women Like that again.”
To the first boy I was in love with. What gave you the right to try to go into my shirt and touch my beautiful nipples. You thought it was a joke when I wouldn’t let you. It wasn’t a joke. I’m just so used to men taking advantage of me.
I’m so scared. I’m so afraid.
It was like every man I met, all they wanted was to touch me. They didn’t bother getting to know who I was on the inside. I screamed “See me for me!” Not just for my body. I cried, “See me for me!” “Please see me!”
This is why I hesitate to engage in anything with men, because it seems like everything I do, it’s a que for them to touch me.
The only man I trust with my body, is my father. Someone who will never shame me for my body, someone who brought this body into existence. Someone who loves me for me.
To all the boys I was in a relationship with, I’m taking back my body. Though you’ve nested in me and seen every part of me.
When you hear, I’m taking back my body, what comes into your mind? Think for a second.
Reclaiming your body after society owned it, different boys, strange men, who’s taken it, may seem hard. Do I even want this torn up body anymore, after it’s gone through this much. Is she even worth to save? Nobody sees me worth it. People cringe at the thought of me. But most importantly, despite how others see me, how do I see myself? Do I love myself? I must love myself, because if I even have the thought to try and reclaim my body, that means I know I’m worth it.
I am worth it. You are worth it. It’s time for us to start seeing it for ourselves.