It happened suddenly, surprisingly and overnight. One day I was a child and the next I was a sex object. Catching everyone from friends to teachers, parents to siblings off guard I had grown into a women and to some, a piece of female specimen that welcomed sexual advances, harassment and jokes. The one thing that has defined my womanhood more then anything else has been my breasts. I was thrown, unarmed into this situation at the tender age of 13, since then my views have changed.
At 13 I viewed my buxomest body as a toy, an advantage, but after 5 years of being viewed as a sex object my views have changed. Changing my views ever further was reading Chapter 9 in Julia Woods Gendered Lives, this chapter dealt with the stereotypical roles of both sexes. One female role that applied directly to me was the sex object stereotype. Even after 5 years of continuous harassment I feel empowered and proud of my sexuality, I love my body, including my breasts. Wood described a sex object as something that was wrong, something that shouldnt be a part of our society. Wood inadvertently made me feel like I was harming other women by embracing my sexuality. Wrong, I say, society has made me a sex object and I will do everything I can to make society deal with what they have created.
I have always believed that my body was something to be proud of, something that I have treasured and praised throughout my life. For the first 6 months of my womanhood I felt I had been blessed. But, over the years I endured example after example that showed me there was something very, very wrong with the way society deals with sexuality. I did not see anything wrong when I was on an airplane with classmates and found them staring at my breasts. When I asked them what they were doing they simply replied, waiting for turbulence. That was funny, then.
A couple months later I heard boys in the back row of my science class talking vulgarly about my body, naturally, I was upset, but chalked it up to immaturity and went on with my life. My freshman year of high school was the worst, so far. I didnt feel like I could run in P.E. because the wrestlers, whom were all upperclassman would stand at the wall and yell elicit lines to me. Further damaging my self worth, were teachers.
I was never directly harassed my teachers but they let other students verbally harass me over and over again. The first week of school, freshman year, a senior, yelled to me from another table that I was his new girlfriend because he likes them girls with huge jugs. It might have been different, I might have been protected if I was some meek, shy girl, but I was not. I was class president, an athlete I was well known and apart from my body, widely respected. It appalled the administration that such an active student was so bluntly sexy. They showed me, through looks and stern talks everyday that I shouldnt wear certain things, the same certain things that every other girl was wearing. I was not trying to make a statement; I was simply, embracing my body. I felt beautiful in my clothes and thats why I wore them.
Even with all the things I had endured I made a pact with myself, I was not going to sulk away and become unnoticed and lacking self-esteem. As the years went by, the harassment continued. As I matured and became more of an adult and less of a child I began to understand what I believed in and that my sexuality was not my problem, it was theirs. Women, even women who are viewed, as sex objects should not have to cover up or feel ashamed, it is society that should learn to embrace them. A woman, even a woman with big breasts, or an hourglass figure, should be able to dress, as she wants and not be harassed.
I have yet to discover the exact problem, but there is an underlying