I Was Slut Shamed As A Teen

I was raised in a Caribbean community in Brooklyn with a Catholic upbringing.

Most of my childhood happened somewhere along or near a street called Flatbush Avenue.

Looking back, I supposed it was challenging to know how to raise a girl in that environment.

Grown men started trying to talk to me when I was maybe 12.

A family friend went from safe to scary when he invited be to his “weekend lover”.

Our building’s super tried to hook up with me when I was 13. I remember looking at him and telling him my age. His response? “Oh I thought you were 16.”

What?!

It was a tricky space to navigate, my uncle was the only man I trusted and he was like a father to me.

With the creepy guys, the drugs and violence around us I understood we weren’t safe so there was always quiet high alert.

Today, I appreciate the efforts of the women who raised me, teaching me what they were taught, trying to protect me.

I wish I knew that I could disagree with the adults around me and not take their criticisms so personally. Everything a grown up said was the word I lived by as a child.

At the time, I hated it.

When I started to wear skirts, I of course wanted to wear short skirts. It seemed innocent.

Little did I know, such a simple act was like inciting a riot.

Apparently I was asking for trouble in my skirts. It couldn’t be as simple as a girl wanting to dress up a little.

We all learned to wear little biker shorts underneath our skirts in case men tried to look up our skirts, or touch us.

See, girls like me were raised to feel like we’re responsible for men’s actions.

Of course that’s silly, because I was a child and men are not children.

Such an obvious truth became so warped, since from a young age we are taught to bear burdens that were never meant for us to carry.

I remember my mother once described to me in detail the way a snake would crawl up in between my legs because my skirts were too short. Of course this made want to wear them more, for a time, but unfortunately I still carry a tiny fear that it could actually happen. See how powerful words can be?

Between the catcalls and being shamed at home, I was confused.

It felt like what I wore was more important to everyone than what I did. My school work, my wants and dreams never inspired that same level of passion.

Honestly most of them never even asked.

Take for example, years later, the first year I was going to a new school, living with my mom and her new boyfriend.

Now even HE had something to say. At this point I was getting pretty fed up, plus I was 15.

For the first time I was on the honor roll, my siblings got customized trophies from the new boyfriend and I got an earful about what?

My outfits!

I was livid and pretty expressive about my feelings. What I hated more than being shamed for what I was wearing was feeling betrayed by my mother, who said nothing and offered zero support.

Walking to school was like preparing for the gauntlet. A group of guys would always hang out across the street catcalling. It was scary. A group of boys all yelling things in your direction and sometimes if you didn’t respond oh then naturally you were a bitch and they’d be sure to let you know.

As I write this I can see how all of the unwanted attention changed the way I present myself in a way. I think a lot of people can relate to that.

The world was teaching me that I was never safe and if something happened to me it was my fault and I probably could’ve avoided it if I covered my body.

Armor became important. Of course I can only see that with the benefit of hindsight. My style evolved and not wanting to be harassed was a factor. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but at least I have outlets that allow me to wear what I want - like on stage or at shoots.

Slut shaming teens is the societal version of drugging up the symptoms but not addressing the disease.

If I ever get to raise a child, she/they will know that it’s what’s in their head not on their body that matters most. If I feel like I have to protect them, I will educate them about the threat not shame them for their innocence.

I want to live in a world where kids are allowed to be kids.

I want anyone who wants to wear dresses and skirts to be treated with the same respect as man in a suit.

It seems like we can actually get there.

I really hope we do.

Photo: Mama Cax