The other day I got called a slut for having boobs. Having boobs, having them not showing them. Let’s all share a moment of silence for body shaming…
…and now let’s quickly get over that shit cause realistically it happens to all of us. Nobody is perfect, and everyone’s a “victim” of insult. But my life isn’t a comedy show, and this guy wasn’t headlining. In fact, he was just passing through.
He must have thought hmm, maybe with enough audacity I can bite her off something rude to chew cause my dick isn’t feeling big enough today. And so he did. If I remember correctly he began with four compliments in a row. One right after the other. No breathing room.
I responded with “woa, that’s a lot to take in.” To which he replied with “maybe you should thank people when they compliment you. You’re the type of girl who just gets by on her looks. Nice boobs, slut.”
I think we can all agree that “that’s what she said” would have been an appropriate response.
Without even an ounce of humor or intelligence in his response I wanted to verbally assassinate this douche canoe with a slew of my armed “word” forces. And then I realized proving to an idiot that he was an idiot, made me an idiot.
First of all, I’m not writing this post because I’m even slightly offended by this stranger. I know that hurt people (try to) hurt people, and that, what Mike says of Molly says more about Mike than Molly, or whatever the fuck that saying is.
What I’m getting at are that there are many things none of us chose during our exit from the womb, certainly “a frontal backpack for perma-carry so that I may be deemed a slut for my curves” was not on my list. But neither was that tiny guy across the bar’s wish for being vertically inept.
This random guy, knowing nothing about me, calling me a slut for having breasts outside of the size norm is almost identical to me calling the short guy in the room un-dateable. There is NOTHING I can do about the cup size my genetics founded me. Similarly, these under-six footer’s are probably feeling their hands just as tied.
When I started to put it this way, you know…all physical attributes as one, I finally went hmm, I’m a mirror of this toolbag. I’m the four compliment dude. The guy who looked at me, over sexualized my curves and then gave himself zero shot at getting to know me. That’s me.
Moral of the story. Who cares if her boobs are giant, or if his height isn’t. Everyone’s got something to offer, and their physical attributes don’t make them slutty, or un-dateable. They make them unique and different. And for that, you and I are both worthy of both respect and of love. Never forget that.