Letter Eleven

Dear all the men I have interacted with since I was 17,

I'm over being a straight woman. I despise the power men have over me. It’s something I can’t get rid of– it’s biological and innate. Without men, I have something missing: sex, pleasure, validation, and someone to call me theirs. It’s like I am out to destroy my own self-worth. In the shower, I suck in my stomach and I wonder when this need for approval will ever end– not today, maybe tomorrow or next week, or maybe on my deathbed.

I always attract the type of man who tells me “I think I love you” even though we just met. Other men just call me beautiful for the chance of taking my dress off. Most of the time I don’t believe them so keep it on, but other times I am so wrapped up in my insecurities I take it off. 

Since puberty, I've been beaten and bruised, groped and spat at, belittled and pressured. I've never felt a touch of distaste from any girl friend of mine, but when a man touches me it feels disgusting. It feels like a needy touch for some undeserved power. Will a man ever not see me as a sexual object, a dispenser of love, or as an arm candy? Will there ever be a man to prove my idea wrong? 

The next time I will be saying “thank you” to a man is on my deathbed. I’ll say, “Thank you Jesus for giving me what I have been missing.”

Your biggest hater and supporter,

Me