My Short Skirt

Men assume women dress a certain way to appeal to their wildest desires and fantasies. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't wear an outfit I cared nothing for simply because a man liked it. They are an afterthought. Or no thought at all. Just as women do not get beautiful photos of themselves to appeal to a man's wet dreams, but to our own inner desires to be seen and see ourselves as the goddesses we are; the goddesses that go unnoticed. When will they realize that we don't do it for them? We do this for US. 

How often are women asked what they were wearing after an attack? How often are we cat-called while walking down the street, feeling pretty and free? How often do unwanted advances come your way because of something you wore? 

In honor of Women's History Month, I would like to share with you a monologue that touched me on a very personal level from the incredible Eve Ensler, as heard in The Vagina Monologues:



My Short Skirt by Eve Ensler


It is not an invitation
a provocation
an indication
that I want it
or give it
or that I hook. 
My short skirt
is not begging for it
it does not want you
to rip it off me
or pull it down. 
My short skirt
is not a legal reason
for raping me
although it has been before
it will not hold up
in the new court. 
My short skirt, believe it or not
has nothing to do with you. 
My short skirt
is about discovering
the power of my lower calves
about cool autumn air traveling
up my inner thighs
about allowing everything I see
or pass or feel to live inside. 
My short skirt is not proof
that I am stupid
or undecided
or a malleable little girl. 
My short skirt is my defiance
I will not let you make me afraid
My short skirt is not showing off
this is who I am
before you made me cover it
or tone it down. 
Get used to it. 
My short skirt is happiness
I can feel myself on the ground. 
I am here. I am hot. 
My short skirt is a liberation
flag in the women's army
I declare these streets, any streets
my vagina's country. 
My short skirt
is turquoise water
with swimming colored fish
a summer festival
in the starry dark
a bird calling
a train arriving in a foreign town
my short skirt is a wild spin
a full breath
a tango dip
my short skirt is
But mainly my short skirt
and everything under it
is Mine.