If you grow up to be the kind of woman who everybody loves to stare at, let them stare at you. If you grow up to be the kind of woman who can make heads turn and hearts sink to the deepest part of their soul with just one smile, let them fall for you. But darling, keep this in mind: don’t let them look at you like you’re a piece of meat ready to be served to anyone who’s willing to pay the price. You are not for sale.
When they try to touch you, slap them even with shaking hands. Look them in the eyes and tell them about how your parents raised you. You were raised to be a woman whose heart men want to hold, a woman whose soul men want to kiss, a woman whose mind men want to explore for the rest of their lives.
You were not raised to be a woman whose skin men want to be decorated by disgusting bite marks of lust.
When they try to touch you, scream to their faces that you don’t wear skirt to invite wolves and make them crave for you. You wear skirt because you are a woman. And women have the right to be respected no matter what they wear. It’s time this fucked up society stop infusing in the minds of women that it’s their fault they get abused, that it’s because they wear inappropriate clothes or go out in the middle of the night. Stand up and tell people you are not making yourself an easy target for wearing the reddest shade of lipstick or for showing off your shoulders. It’s time these hungry beasts stop telling themselves it is normal to crave for some skin if you’re showing off quite too much. It’s time you tell these hungry beasts you are not a glass of water that could satisfy their thirst.
You were not raised to be like this. You were not raised to be touched by lustful hands, even to be stared at by lustful eyes. You are a woman of beauty. You are made of flesh, skin and bones that can hold the world. You are a woman. And I say to you, only let a man touch you if it is your heart he’s reaching out for, if it is your soul he wants to make love with.