Being a Woman | Teen Ink

Being a Woman

April 19, 2021
By Colleen_Rourke BRONZE, New Windsor, New York
Colleen_Rourke BRONZE, New Windsor, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Well what were you wearing?

We’re you alone?

Did you do anything to stop it?

We’re you on a public road? 

Life comes at you fast, one day you’re worried if you wear a skirt you won’t be able to go on the swing, the next you wonder if someone is going to find you in a ditch and you’ll just be another statistic. Walk with one headphone, keys in between my fingers and a cold attitude on my face. Throwing my drink out at a party because I forgot to bring it into the bathroom with me. Parking under the light so I can check to see if someone snuck into my car. Being in my work uniform and being “complimented” by men old enough to be my grandfather. Being told to look a specific way so much that we starve and cinch ourselves into nothingness. Being told to “smile more”. Well then say something funny.I was told that when a boy bullied me, it was because he liked me. Last time I checked you don’t bully the ones you love. Intimate pictures turn into trading cards, who’s got the biggest collection, but you’re a wh*re if you send them, but if you don’t you’re a prude. We can never win. When I was first catcalled I was 10. I was picking up my sister and a man drove by shouting “nice boobs!!” I thought he was complementing my boots. I was so young and oblivious that I thought that was the only thing. I couldn’t fathom the fact that someone could say something so vulgar and degrading to someone so young and innocent didn’t cross my mind until I was way older and saw the world that we live in first hand.

My favorite pair of shorts and my camp t shirt.

I was picking my little sister up from the bus.

He drove by in that beat up pickup truck and before I could even process it he sped off, burning rubber in the process.

I was at the top of my dirt road, connecting to route 94. 

I was 10.

I still remember that nauseating smell of his tires smoking as he sped off.

The author's comments:

This piece i wrote during the middle of the night when i could not sleep because i was thinking about Sarah Everard. Its a horrible way to live and i dont want my children to live like that. When i tell my guy friends about these things they can fathom it. They knew it happened but they never thought it would happen to their loved ones. We need to stop this.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.