Tag Archives: feminism

hollahollaholla.

i’d had a sucky weekend.  the reasons why, the story about what happened, that doesn’t matter.  just know that i’d spent my entire weekend indoors, stewing, just wanting to be somewhere else.  finally, it was Sunday and i spent the day anxious to jump out of the house, if not out of my very skin, and just go somewhere.  that morning i laid out an outfit.  that afternoon, i put it on and left my house with no destination, no concern for one.  i was keen to just walk.  through the streets of my neighborhood, to the center of the city i was born and raised in.  to think, to be alone, to see something other than the yellow walls of my living room or the pink (ugh) walls of my bedroom.

what i was wearing doesn’t matter, but know that i was covered from collarbone to toe.  there was nothing at all provocative about me, guaranteed by the 60 degree weather of the day.

Continue reading