at age 8 i stopped wearing jeans because they were uncomfortable.
at age 14 i wore high heels, fish nets, and skirts to school and a man once asked my mother if she really let me leave the house looking like that. i also wore checkered pajama pants and shirts with holes in them to class, i dressed up and down because everyone else seemed to dress in the middle. i dressed however i wanted to because my mother told that guy to shut the **** up and mind his own business.
at age 16 i wore crop tops the size of sports bras and pants so tight i understood why they called them skin-ny jeans my **** and *** would be flying all over the place, but people with larger **** and larger bellies, people like me, weren't supposed to be wearing those sorts of things so i thought i must. or so i thought.
at age 18 i started dressing in oversized shirts and formless dresses i didn't believe my body needed to be objectified and put on display anymore, i didn't need to prove that my waistline was small enough, i didn't need to wear the spanx i wore every day at 16.
at age 20 i stopped wearing make up or a bra, my **** sagged and eyes bagged but i wanted to show people that ***** aren't always perky even on twenty year olds. i also stopped shaving my armpits i thought they were cute.
at age 22 i stopped shaving my legs. i didn't think they were cute. but i realized not every decision i made about how i presented myself needed to be in order to make myself more beautiful.
and at age 24 i shaved my head.
a man once asked me, as he looked at my college ring wrapping itself around my pointer finger, if i always did things differently just to be different? and if id always be doing things just because someone told me not to?
i should have looked at him and asked him what has he ever been told he cannot do?