“I got to a breaking point that night and thought to myself “I am so sick of minimising the tension (in situations where a man is trying to take advantage of me) in order to make him feel more comfortable.” No more!
Why am I putting his comfort before my own, anyways?
I will no longer accept behaviour that’s “not that big of a deal”, but isn’t okay, either. I’m sick of being “polite.” I’m sick of being a “nice girl,” an “easy-going girl” a “well behaved girl.” Fuck being well behaved!
Where do I come into this?
Why am I trying to accommodate someone who would not – is not – doing the same for me?… Who doesn’t even have the decency to ask? Who only thinks of himself? What about me – who is going to look out for me? What line has to be crossed before I finally stand up for myself? How bad do I have to be hurt before I eventually loose my power?
The truth is:
The power will always been inside of me.
The line is wherever I decide it is.
I care about me.
I am putting myself first.”
A journal entry about the boys who sneak into your bedroom at night, even when you lock the door.