Don’t fall for the boy who has
seen you makeup-free or with
a face scrunched-up with ugly,
uncontrollable laughter or tears;
the one you call your best friend.
Instead, fall for the ones that lift
out easily, the ones that wash
away with tough soap, the ones
that have only ever been in the
part of your heart meant for
romance. Don’t fall for the boy
who you need as a friend because
when he breaks your heart, who
will be the one to fix it?
There’s no point to a guy yelling, “Hey sexy baby” at me out of the passenger window of a car as it speeds past. Even if I was into creepy misogynists and wanted to give him my number, I couldn’t. The car didn’t even slow down. But that’s okay, because he wasn’t actually hitting on me. The point wasn’t to proposition me or chat me up. The only point was to remind me, and all women, that our bodies are his to stare at, assess, comment on, even touch. “Hey sexy baby” is the first part of a sentence that finishes, “this is your daily message from the patriarchy, reminding you that your body is public property”.