I look forward to getting old partially because I look forward to going outside and being somewhat invisible. I am scared I will never get that freedom, though, because my hair is going gray and I'm not slim anymore and yet I still get harassed all the fucking time. I am beginning to understand down to my bones that this whole thing has nothing to do with my "beauty" and everything to do with reminding me that the street doesn't belong to me.
This essay means a lot to me, and I'd appreciate it if you took the time to read it.
You can find it here:
Part I: On Being Harassed and Having to Thank Him For It
Part II: On Putting Me in My Place
Part III: On Dealing With the Horror of Innocent Men
If you missed the video that inspired all this, I've pasted it in below.