“He probably just likes you,” she said to me.
When I was 10 I was confused why teachers never asked me to help them move things, or to assist them with IT, but always asked the boys.
When I was 11 I was always the motherly-type character in games and got really annoyed, but didn’t quite know why.
When I was 12 I was accused of liking my male best friend. I didn’t, and it made things weird. We don’t talk any more.
When I was 13 I got uncomfortable in my body and was told to cover up more.
The boys in my class could take their shirts off to play soccer, but I had to keep my skirt long enough not to distract them.
When I was 14 I got cat-called for the first time, walking from my job at a café to a shop nearby.
When I was 15 I got hit on by a drunk older man for the first time. I was at work.
When I was 16 I was called a shrimp by a boy in my year level.
When I was 17 I would get into arguments with people when I noticed sexism. They would never take me seriously.
When I was 17 I got angry.
When I was 18 I was continually sexualised on the job.
Older men would comment on my looks, older women would tell me they would never dress the way I do.
I was at work, wearing a T-shirt and long flowy pants. I hated that job because of the comments, so I left.
When I was 18 I got even angrier.
I was angry at the world for letting this happen. Angry at my teachers for not doing anything.
I was upset for the women who had come before me who were subject to much worse than I.
When I was 19 I started questioning things more.
Why did I care so much for male validation when I didn’t even like the men I wanted to like me?
Why did I shave my legs? I hate shaving my legs.
When I was 19 I was deemed bossy as I would argue with my male colleagues. Apparently, they’re just good leaders.
When I was 19 I was told by a male co-worker that my desk was too pink. I put more pink items on it — I still do.
When I was 19 I stopped shaving my legs and saved a lot of money.
When I was 20 I went to a tech store with my boyfriend. The guy at the store just spoke to him the whole time — I was the one buying a new laptop.
When I was 20 I kept arguing back and calling people out. It was fun to argue, but no-one ever took me seriously.
When I was 20 I had a small role of authority while participating in a hobby. No-one listened to me, but they did listen to every man around me.
I’m still 20. I’m still angry, still upset, still questioning why things are the way they are.
I will soon be 21. I hope things are better then.
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