Luiza Pougy Magalhaes, France/Brazil, SSH Blog Correspondent
I am very mouthy and outspoken, so I find it very difficult to keep my mouth shut when I am catcalled. However, I know from experience, that a smart-reply can put me in a dangerous situation, so I usually don’t say anything. Instead, I rely on my friends to listen to my rants regarding the issue. Often, I’m told to just ignore it. Well, I wish I could. Unfortunately, I have always been very bothered by what people have to say about me.
As a child, I was a late bloomer. I was also an awkward little girl with pale skin, big round glasses, frizzy hair and a shy personality. Of course, people loved to point that out. They made me believe that these were not just insecurities of mine, but actual flaws. I felt ugly, and therefore, I was unworthy.
Then, puberty finally caught up with me. My unkempt hair turned into flowy and wavy locks, contact lenses replaced my glasses, and my white skin and slim frame suddenly became charming. There was a new found attention on me. I finally felt beautiful and that made me feel like I owned the world.
I made the streets my catwalk. My clothes became shorter, tighter and there was make-up on my face. That shy girl had emerged into a young woman with overflowing self-confidence, a handful of sass, and a hint of superiority.
However, I soon came to realize that not all attention is positive. You see, a lot of it was unwanted and unflattering. Strangers were shouting at me, cars were honking and men were staring. There was whistling, glaring and catcalling. Just like that, I no longer felt beautiful and wonderful, but instead, dirty and disgusted.
I was no longer a girl, or a woman, not even a human being. I was an object of sexual desire. It was repugnant, and it was exhausting. My confidence changed into fear and my walk became uncomfortable. My routes were no longer determined by convenience, but by likelihood of harassment. My sass and superiority developed into anger and revolt. It was beyond me how such repulsing words could be masked as compliments.
One day when I’d had enough, I decided to swap my short skirts for sweat pants, and to ditch my make-up and contact lenses. Surely enough that would stop them. If only I was right.
As a child, I felt cursed for not being beautiful, but as time passed, I had begun to feel that beauty was the actual curse. However, that day I understood that actually, the only curse is society itself.
It saddens me to say that I was, and still am, a victim of the hideousness that is today’s society. One that is capable of making a little girl feel unworthy and a young woman demeaned. All because of her looks.
And there’s so little I can do about it.
Harassment has nothing to do with beauty or choice of clothing. Harassment is never the fault of the victim, and unfortunately, can’t be avoided in any way. The same applies for any kind of violence against women, for that matter.
Unfortunately, the ones who hold all the power are those who choose to harass. And I don’t know why they do it either. Maybe to feel in control and dominant, to disempower women, to reassure their masculinity or maybe, it’s just sexual frustration. For whatever reason it may be, it needs to stop. Harassment has impacted me greatly, and it continues to everyday.
The saddest part for me is knowing fully well that I have had it easy. There is an abundance of girls and women out there fighting much harder battles than mine. When will society realize that these battles are all of ours to fight? When will the urgency of this issue sink in? I hope, for me and all girls and women out there, soon.
Luiza is a 20-year-old from Brazil who considers herself a citizen of the world. As a teenager she moved to Singapore and now she studies International Business in France.
