My name is LITTLE LADY and I am ten years old visiting family. Your eyes hungrily take in my young body and your truck slows down and my heart pounds in my chest. You yell horrible things at me and tears sting my eyes and I run all the way home. I dare not stop to see if you’re following, that would give you an unfair advantage.
My name is SWEET THING and I am twelve years old and we are all here to honor him. Do you have no respect for where we are? Evidently not as you grip my shoulder with an alarming force and I hide in the bathroom while the service carries on. My mother will be furious later that I missed my best friend’s funeral but I’m sure JP would understand mum, I’m sure he would understand how frightened I was.
My name is CHEEKY and I am thirteen years old at the beach with my family. You untie my bikini top and throw it out to the lake. I am mortified and they are laughing and you are laughing and I don’t know how to cope. I cover myself with the last bit of dignity I can muster as my father repeats the four words that have been their excuse for ages, “Boys will be boys”
My name is ***** JUST LOOK AT ME and I am fifteen years old, words to you that means “old enough”. I am livid but you have the advantage with your size and I cannot defend myself. I hold my keys tight in my fist and bare my teeth like a wolf. I am afraid but the anger rises higher than fear.
My name is ******* and I am seventeen years old. I am strong and unafraid, but with every call I am suddenly ten years old again and running away from the man in the truck. I am strong; so strong, and I must defend myself because no one else will. I must defend myself because no man will ever have the satisfaction of saying they were the one that broke me. I must defend myself because I should never be afraid to walk alone.
A poem from personal experience, and the experience of many other young women around the world.