Dear society, I’m wearing a dress while I’m out today, and a group of guys make sexual innuendos towards me. But Dear society, according to you, it’s my fault because I “shouldn’t be dressed this way.” The dress was down to my ankles, but Dear society, that doesn’t matter to you. Because you have objectified women like me as sex toys. As if we’re some blow up doll only used for your men to get off on.
Dear society, who am I today? Am I me, or what you say I should be?
Dear society, did you know, that because of you, all odds are against me? I’m a woman and I’m black, in a WHITE MAN’S America and “may the odds be ever in your favor,” aka, the bullshit I’m fed, to fill me up, I no longer believe.
Dear society, did you know that I am more than my body? Not an object but a soul inside of a body.
But Dear society, do I match your standards today? Or have I become my own BLACK WOMAN with my own standards of my life? Do I look the way you say I should, dress the way you say I should or are you upset? Because dear society, I’m more than what you say that I will be. I’m more than the black girl you say I should be. I’m more than the woman you wanted to see. I’m more than my ancestors could have ever wished for me. But you don’t see that, because Dear Society, you’ve created preconceived notions about what I will be. How successful I will be. But Dear society, today I make the choice that you won’t decide my future for me.
Dear society, I’ve broken from the chains you imprisoned me with; the words spit like fire to destroy me, the set backs you sent my way. Dear society, did you see me today? No? Was it because I wasn’t objectifying myself, or making myself look like the inhumane being you wanted to see?
Dear society, I am nothing more than a body to you. An empty vessel that you can take advantage of because I’m a woman and what else am I good for? Besides cleaning your kitchens, making your meals, and dusting your windows.
Dear society, can I take a break? Can I be a real woman today? Can I work my ass off to get my own stuff, pay my own bills, and not depend on a man to take me in and force me to play maid for the rest of my life?
Dear society, the fact that I even have to ask to be more than an object today is insane wouldn’t you agree? Of course not because, dear society, that’s all I’m good for is what you say to me.
Dear society, you’ve set these standards of women that your men enforce. Bigger butts, smaller waists. You’ve put up images all around suggesting we get breast implants. So now, Dear society, when we look into a mirror after we’ve adjusted to your ideals, we don’t see ourselves but rather a generic brand of what you’ve created.
Dear society, you’re a company! Corrupt in every way, but especially in the way you sell self esteem to us as women in exchange for our souls. You give us “likes” on Instagram , but you’ve reported our personalities. What’s inside doesn’t matter if her bra size is a 38DDD and she can barely fit all of her junk in her jeans, you tell your men. So because of you Dear Society, your men know us but the only insides of us they understand are the insides of between our thighs and our intellect is still untapped, because of you dear society. Dear Society Are you happy yet? Of course not.
So dear society who am I today? Who you say I am; an objectified, colored woman? Or am I my own definition today, dear society?