Don't Owe It / Editorial by Zoe Allen
He told me “it’s just something that guy’s talk about” when I asked him why he spread rumors about me sending him nudes.
He told me “I can’t look like the bad guy” when I asked him why he told people he had seen me naked.
He told me “I just wanted to be nice” when I asked him why he had lead me on for so long.
He told me to “stop being a psycho bitch” when I asked him why he was screwing over my best friend.
He told me “I only like you because you’re easy” when I asked him why he cared about me.
These phrases are all reasons why sexism and sex shaming still exist today. With each of these men, I had gone into the relationship thinking the world of them. With each of these men, I have left the relationship thinking the worst of them.
One demanded to see my chest and when I refused, he told everyone that he had seen it anyways, cementing my reputation as a “slut”.
He said to me “if you can see me shirtless, you owe it to me to be shirtless too.”
I do not know you and I do not owe you anything.
For the longest time, I thought I did owe them something. I had an easy reputation for a reason, and looking back on it, I am not proud of it in any way.
I have grown since then, becoming a girl knowing that she can do whatever she wants with her body, but does not owe anyone her body.
This Valentine’s day, I spent my time with the loves of my life: my team and myself. I swam in a five hour swim meet for my conference championships, spent the last fleeting hours with my team on the long bus ride home, and promptly got home and studied for my impending finals.
I do not need the approval of others to make me happy.
My insecurity was what drove me to seek the approval of boys.
And that, my friend, is not love.
It is physical attraction at best. Sometimes it is not even that--it is just an overwhelming desire to fill up an emptiness inside you. It is filled temporarily, and then I would wake up the next morning hating myself all over again.
Putting on a little black lacy pair of lingerie can only make you feel whole for so long. You can only wait so long until you take them off and change back into pajamas and remember who you actually are.
Throughout this entire cycle, I think I had legitimate feelings for only one of the boys. This boy did not require anything from me--it was unconditional. He was sweet, and absolutely normal--which was what made it so rare for me. Eventually, his feelings for me went away, but mine for him remain to this very day.
It’s egregiously ironic how I could get his entire school to fall for me, yet I could only get him to trip.
Two of his “friends” got jealous of how I felt about him and told him horrible lies. The day before they were together, he was telling me how much he felt for me. The day after, he was telling me how we needed to stay friends.
He can barely look me in the eye anymore. With every time he ignores me, I feel like he’s stepping on my heart. It just will not stop bleeding.
The Smith’s said it so beautifully: “I want the one that I can’t have, and it’s driving me mad.”
Actual feelings are so hard to come by and it seems like when I find them, it is never reciprocated.
In a world of sexting, drunk hookups, date rapes, and cat calling, true romance is a fragile, feathered thing. It is breakable, delicate, and will leave you in the blink of an eye. I have yet to find it--and I don’t think I am anywhere close.
