7–22 ASK ME AGAIN WHY I NEED FEMINISM

When I was 7 they told me that if a boy pulled my hair, it meant they liked me. But I didnt like that at all. They romantized violence.

When I was 8 my relatives gave me barbies and kitchen toys. I just wanted to play with my pokemons.

When I was 9 they told me that girls have to use dresses even though I loved my overalls.

When I was nine my teacher told me I could be a princess, not a badass heroe like my male schoolmates. Fuck them, I ´ll be a badass queen then.

When I was ten again my teacher told me I couldnt play football because it wasnt “ladylike”.

When I was eleven my period started. Everyone made me feel ashamed of it. I was so young they said, like it was my fault this natural body process happened. My family told me “now you became a woman”. I didnt feel less of a woman before.

When I was twelve I didnt feel like using bras yet because none of my friends were using them . My classmates laughed at me and gave me insinuating looks because my nipples were noticeable through my school t-shirt. That´s the first time my body was sexualize.

When I was thirteen boys started making lists grading our bodies, as we were mere objects. They lifted my skirt, but the teacher said “boys will be boys”.

When I was fifteen I was street-harassed on a daily basis.They told me it was a “compliment”. But it wasnt, the catcaller knew I didnt liked that, he watched me cross to the other street. It was a demonstration of power. He knew he could say what he wanted and nothing would happen to him. He knew there´s nothing I could do. It was a threat. “I´ll fuck you until you die” he said.

When I was sixteen I was told that if I kissed too many boys I was a slut, even though my male friends were considered champions after every new conquer. I was considered, as every woman in the world, a sexual object, but I couldnt enjoy my sexuality because it would make me a whore.

When I was seventeen my great aunt asked me when I was going to get a boyfriend. Like I was incomplete without it.

When I was eighteen I was told to watch out for the clothes I decide to use because it could be “provoking men”. Somehow it felt like it could be MY fault if a man did something to me because of what I was wearing. As if respect was based on the lenght of my skirt or the tighness of my jeans.

When I was nineteen people told me that I shouldnt study politics. Because that´s more of a “man´s job”.

When I was twenty, TV cleaning advertisements told me that ALL I should worry about is whether my floors are fully clean and shiny . And menstrual pads ads told me my menstruation was blue. Credit card ads told me not to spend so much on my husband´s card… as if I didnt or couldnt pay my own bills.

When I was twenty-one they told me I was HIS girl. I told them I am MINE.

When I was twenty-two I said I didnt know if I wanted kids. They told me I know nothing. They said there was something wrong with me. They said I was going to miss the MOST important thing in my life. As if being a mother is my biological destiny.

Now, ask me again why I need feminism.