Dear Creepy Man,
I’d just like to start this love letter off by insisting that it will be the most heartfelt one I’ve ever written. I have to admit something, though: this is my first love letter, so there’s not much competition there.
Does that help to answer the question you asked me no less than 3 times the other day? You kept turning around and asking me if I was writing love letters while I was trying to grade an exam my students had just taken. I told you the first time that I wasn’t, as I was actually just doing my job, but that didn’t stop you from leaning in and asking me that question a handful of times. Maybe you just needed an excuse to touch my arm? I guess you didn’t need an excuse to not so subtly look down at my knees/legs while I was wearing that dress.
I just wanted you to know that from the moment I walked into your class on one of the first days of the semester, as your temporary co-teacher, and you referred to me as “your girl,” in front of the students, you had my heart. My fondness for you only grew when you asked me for the second time if I had a boyfriend back home, and told me how beautiful my “Whatsapp” picture was. You’re in luck, creepy man, because while some women prefer that lovely “butterfly” feeling, I prefer it when men make my skin crawl.
Anyways, what kind of love letter would this be if I didn’t talk about the things that I love about you? I just love it when you come up to me and randomly grab my hand or touch my shoulder for a little too long. I love it even more when you make inappropriate comments about the students, like, quote: “That’s my best student…physically.” That sort of thing just really warms my heart.
For all of your excellent qualities, though, I’d be lying if I told you you’re unique in your ways (sorry!). If I’m being perfectly honest, you remind me of a lot of other men. You remind me of the kind of men who say stuff like, “I can’t hire you because I have a girlfriend,” or the kind of men who just generally don’t respect women in or out of the workplace or see them as their equals. I mean, what else would a young woman like myself be doing at work if not writing love letters?! Your question was perfectly valid.
I know what you’re thinking: this love letter seems to have taken a different turn. You know, it crossed my mind that my job might be in jeopardy just for publishing it! It’s funny, though, apparently you’ve never had to worry too much about that (your job being in jeopardy). I know you have a history of making women’s skin crawl, that lovely feeling I mentioned earlier, but clearly you’ve kept your job. I admire a man who can rise above all odds. Somehow I get the feeling that if I disrespected my co-workers the way you do, I wouldn’t have this job for very long! What’s your secret?
I know, I know: I’m not doing what women are supposed to do. Women are supposed to let these things go. We’re supposed to accept the facts of life, and move on with things. Women are supposed to be polite! We’re supposed to smile and say “hi” to the strange men who catcall us and comment on our appearance. We’re supposed to try to grin and bear it when we’re harassed at work or elsewhere. We’re supposed to laugh at the sexist jokes we hear and not talk too much about gender inequality so that we can hang with the bros and not be labeled one of those difficult “feminazi” types.
But you also do stuff you’re not supposed to, right? Unless of course making suggestive comments to a girl 40 years younger than you, when you have a wife and kid, is normal.
I guess I’m just not willing to stop talking or writing about these things until these issues start to change. We all know I’m not the only woman lucky enough to deal with men like you! xoxo
It seems like maybe you’ve taken somewhat of an interest in the wrong girl. I’m sorry about that.