I could sense his gaze on me. When I turned around to confirm my instincts, he didn’t bother to look away. This was no casual glance; it was a lewd stare that ignited a rage within me that felt capable of setting the entire store ablaze.
I’m usually fortunate enough to avoid the unwanted attention that comes from men’s lingering looks, but that day was different. Having just left a yoga class, I was wearing yoga pants—something I typically reserve for the confines of my home or the studio. Finally feeling bold enough to make a quick stop at the store, I found myself the target of Creepy McStareface’s unwelcome scrutiny.
Let me clarify: this isn’t a boast about my behind. It’s just average, but I don’t appreciate it being objectified. My body reveals my curves and hips, and I often choose clothing that minimizes those aspects. I believe attire shouldn’t invite attention, yet I actively avoid anything that draws focus to my shape.
As a non-conforming, gender-fluid individual, I was assigned female at birth based purely on anatomy. My experiences in life have largely been shaped by my use of female pronouns, and if I had to choose, I’d tick the box marked Female. However, I perceive the world—and how it perceives me—through the lens of my masculinity as well. When people look at me, I wish for them to see my masculine traits first.
Understanding gender identity can be elusive. I experience both male and female aspects within myself, and that duality is a vital part of who I am. I prefer “men’s” clothing and sport a “men’s” haircut, embodying traditionally masculine roles in my day-to-day life. These choices reflect my identity, even though they don’t solely define it.
Conversely, I struggle to accept my feminine traits, especially those that are visibly female. I resent how my soft features, like my hips and breasts, can overshadow my masculinity, as if softness diminishes my male identity. It’s essential for parents to teach their boys that it’s okay to be gentle and to remind their girls that they are more than their curves.
Yoga has been a dedication of mine, yet I often hesitated to wear the snug outfits that accompany the practice. I felt that such attire was too feminine, potentially overshadowing my masculinity and the visual representation of my nonbinary identity. Though I recognize that clothing has no gender, I still wrestled with the notion of donning “female” attire.
My sexuality adds another layer to my perspective. I identify as queer, attracted to women and their unique attributes. This connection influences how I view men, particularly straight cisgender men. I can empathize with their desires, yet I remain respectful, understanding that a woman’s worth is not tied to how she makes someone feel. Women are not prizes to be won; they are gifts to be cherished.
So when I caught Creepy McStareface ogling me, I wanted to confront him for trying to erase a part of my identity with his disrespectful gaze. His behavior served as a stark reminder of the constant objectification women face—a reality I’m usually spared from. The most infuriating part was feeling that my masculine identity was being overlooked entirely, leading to a deep sense of frustration and misunderstanding.
I wanted to lash out at him for the way he could easily look at my partner, friends, and daughters, his brazen lust potentially undermining their confidence and self-worth. I felt anger for all the women he has likely made uncomfortable, stripping away their autonomy with his shameless leering.
As a human being, I’m disheartened by the way many men treat women. While not all men are the same, there are certainly enough that exhibit disrespectful behavior. From financial disparities to outright sexual harassment, it often makes me wish to confront these men about their actions and their impact on women.
Standing in the dairy aisle that day, I was seething with anger but was also reminded of my privilege as a queer, gender-fluid person. I wish to share this message with men who desire closeness with women: respect is paramount. If you want to forge a meaningful connection, you must first ensure that she feels comfortable and safe, devoid of any expectations.
Women are not trophies; they are individuals with their own desires and boundaries.
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In summary, my experience in the grocery store illuminated the ongoing challenges many face regarding respect and identity in the context of gender and sexuality. It’s vital to foster a culture where individuals are seen for who they truly are, not just as objects of desire.