A rant about looking vs. leering
Feb. 19th, 2010 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
twistdfateangelIt's like this.
Yes, I have pictures of me all over the net. Mostly nice ones. Sometimes, I'm dancing, sometimes I'm wearing a pretty dress, sometimes I'm just goofing off with the people I call family. I realize that anything can be a turn-on for somebody out there, like the fact that I hate to wear shoes when I don't have to, yet own tons of them, or the fact that I enjoy the way I look in a corset, or the fact that, for three months or so out of the year, I'm a redhead (I'm not kidding, I have Mary Sue hair).
I don't mind if people look. Really, I don't. That's why I put them there. I get a bit embarrassed when one is seen by people other than the intended audience, but if I didn't want someone to see it, I wouldn't put it up. That's why there are very few pictures of me with bedhead, or in ultra-frumpy clothes, or crying until my face turns blotchy.
I also realize that people look at other people in the street, more so if they're clearly dressed differently. I used to dash up to McDonald's in my black and red cloak in the pouring rain for a french fry fix. I still wear velvet full circle skirts year-round, because I like them. I will happily wear my Lolita outfits while shopping for pot roast ingredients. Yes, people stare. That's okay.
But, those were respectful gazes. They were confused gazes. Some were disgusted gazes. They were not leers.
Leering is best defined as a look of objectifying the person being stared at. It's not a nice look. It's a look that says "You're here for me to enjoy as I wish. You don't have to like it. Just don't say anything or do anything, because possessions don't speak up." It may not be a conscious objectification, but it's still the process of making the person in question feel worthless. Even worse, sometimes, there is a further note of "if you try to resist being enjoyed and possessed, or if you speak up, you'll suffer for it."
I have been the subject of both kinds of attention. I have been dressed nicely, not provocatively, in fact it was nothing more naughty than my sunday best and my favorite hat. That night, I received respectful remarks ("How cute!", "OMG, where'd you find that dress?", "Nice boots!") and one very obvious leer. I can't describe it in words. It's the kind of tone of voice and gaze that manages to leer at all the senses, to broadcast loud and clear, "You dressed in a way I find provoking and I'm going to use you to fuel my desires, so shut up and take it." It's a tone of voice most women have heard before. It doesn't make us feel sexy or proud, it makes us angry, or ashamed, or unloved.
True, there are people who like being objectified. I won't go into my opinions on that. I'm not a psychologist or an anthropologist. But, those people who enjoy it do so with the understanding that they're being objectified by somebody they trust. They trust this person not to let them be hurt or abused.
There are also women who like leering at women, and women who like leering at men. I can't explain that phenomenon. I have been accused of leering and I apologize for all those times. I meant to watch respectfully as an individual with the same rights I had did something that was for their own benefit. There's a right way and a wrong way. That's not a perfunctory apology. I honestly didn't mean to hurt or scare anyone.
My point is, that people are not objects. When I walk past in a skimpy outfit, it's not for anybody else but me. Maybe it's hot out and I'm trying to keep cool. Maybe it's my favorite dress. Maybe I'm dressing like this because my husband, who likes my legs and respects what I do to be and feel pretty, suggested I wear that skirt to show off my best features, rather than show them off because random people in the street might go home and fantasize about my legs (and never once consider my whole person).
Yes, people have the right to look and i have the right to be looked at. Yes, everyone has the right to be attracted to, and fantasize about anything. Hell, I have spent the whole day blushing madly, because I saw a cover of Wired magazine with a woman studded with diamonds and, ever since, have dreamed of having skin embedded with jewels. I think its attractive, sexy and beautiful. But, I would never once assume that if someone walked by with crystal-studded skin, that it was for my benefit, unless they said it was, and I would never treat them as such.
I am highly offended by anybody who tells me that I'm being ridiculous about this. There are people who will say, "Oh, lighten up! He's appreciating you! Just tell him to stop!" But, when that look treats you like a trinket, there is almost always a feeling of "Oh, god. That person could hurt me." Some people have the courage to fight that fear and speak up anyway. Sometimes, the offender is so humiliated, he stops. Sometimes, he's so humiliated, he gets angry. Sometimes, he gets so humiliated, he takes it out on the person who spoke up. The people who don't speak up have reasons to fear, too. He might just stare. He might come up and do something to me. He might want to hurt me. He might want to kill me.
It's not always a look or a word. Sometimes, it's a touch or a gift or a smile. Men have gotten angry with me for refusing a drink or a piece of jewelry, for getting upset when they slap my ass or rub my shoulders, and even for just looking away when they smile at me. Do they know that they make me nervous? I don't know.
I am a woman. I began developing at an early age. I have been disrespected like this before and I don't doubt that it will happen again. I have been treated like this in brief instances, since I was 12 years old. I know that people still treat is as okay or refuse to believe that it happened at all. The worst ones are the ones who believe I encouraged it. Apparently, every time someone gives me unwanted attention, I'm a cold hearted, home wrecking seductress.
I don't care if they smile at ME, I care if they smile AT me. I don't care if they accidentally brush against me, I care if they "accidentally" brush against me. I don't care if they look. I care if they leer.
Yes, I have pictures of me all over the net. Mostly nice ones. Sometimes, I'm dancing, sometimes I'm wearing a pretty dress, sometimes I'm just goofing off with the people I call family. I realize that anything can be a turn-on for somebody out there, like the fact that I hate to wear shoes when I don't have to, yet own tons of them, or the fact that I enjoy the way I look in a corset, or the fact that, for three months or so out of the year, I'm a redhead (I'm not kidding, I have Mary Sue hair).
I don't mind if people look. Really, I don't. That's why I put them there. I get a bit embarrassed when one is seen by people other than the intended audience, but if I didn't want someone to see it, I wouldn't put it up. That's why there are very few pictures of me with bedhead, or in ultra-frumpy clothes, or crying until my face turns blotchy.
I also realize that people look at other people in the street, more so if they're clearly dressed differently. I used to dash up to McDonald's in my black and red cloak in the pouring rain for a french fry fix. I still wear velvet full circle skirts year-round, because I like them. I will happily wear my Lolita outfits while shopping for pot roast ingredients. Yes, people stare. That's okay.
But, those were respectful gazes. They were confused gazes. Some were disgusted gazes. They were not leers.
Leering is best defined as a look of objectifying the person being stared at. It's not a nice look. It's a look that says "You're here for me to enjoy as I wish. You don't have to like it. Just don't say anything or do anything, because possessions don't speak up." It may not be a conscious objectification, but it's still the process of making the person in question feel worthless. Even worse, sometimes, there is a further note of "if you try to resist being enjoyed and possessed, or if you speak up, you'll suffer for it."
I have been the subject of both kinds of attention. I have been dressed nicely, not provocatively, in fact it was nothing more naughty than my sunday best and my favorite hat. That night, I received respectful remarks ("How cute!", "OMG, where'd you find that dress?", "Nice boots!") and one very obvious leer. I can't describe it in words. It's the kind of tone of voice and gaze that manages to leer at all the senses, to broadcast loud and clear, "You dressed in a way I find provoking and I'm going to use you to fuel my desires, so shut up and take it." It's a tone of voice most women have heard before. It doesn't make us feel sexy or proud, it makes us angry, or ashamed, or unloved.
True, there are people who like being objectified. I won't go into my opinions on that. I'm not a psychologist or an anthropologist. But, those people who enjoy it do so with the understanding that they're being objectified by somebody they trust. They trust this person not to let them be hurt or abused.
There are also women who like leering at women, and women who like leering at men. I can't explain that phenomenon. I have been accused of leering and I apologize for all those times. I meant to watch respectfully as an individual with the same rights I had did something that was for their own benefit. There's a right way and a wrong way. That's not a perfunctory apology. I honestly didn't mean to hurt or scare anyone.
My point is, that people are not objects. When I walk past in a skimpy outfit, it's not for anybody else but me. Maybe it's hot out and I'm trying to keep cool. Maybe it's my favorite dress. Maybe I'm dressing like this because my husband, who likes my legs and respects what I do to be and feel pretty, suggested I wear that skirt to show off my best features, rather than show them off because random people in the street might go home and fantasize about my legs (and never once consider my whole person).
Yes, people have the right to look and i have the right to be looked at. Yes, everyone has the right to be attracted to, and fantasize about anything. Hell, I have spent the whole day blushing madly, because I saw a cover of Wired magazine with a woman studded with diamonds and, ever since, have dreamed of having skin embedded with jewels. I think its attractive, sexy and beautiful. But, I would never once assume that if someone walked by with crystal-studded skin, that it was for my benefit, unless they said it was, and I would never treat them as such.
I am highly offended by anybody who tells me that I'm being ridiculous about this. There are people who will say, "Oh, lighten up! He's appreciating you! Just tell him to stop!" But, when that look treats you like a trinket, there is almost always a feeling of "Oh, god. That person could hurt me." Some people have the courage to fight that fear and speak up anyway. Sometimes, the offender is so humiliated, he stops. Sometimes, he's so humiliated, he gets angry. Sometimes, he gets so humiliated, he takes it out on the person who spoke up. The people who don't speak up have reasons to fear, too. He might just stare. He might come up and do something to me. He might want to hurt me. He might want to kill me.
It's not always a look or a word. Sometimes, it's a touch or a gift or a smile. Men have gotten angry with me for refusing a drink or a piece of jewelry, for getting upset when they slap my ass or rub my shoulders, and even for just looking away when they smile at me. Do they know that they make me nervous? I don't know.
I am a woman. I began developing at an early age. I have been disrespected like this before and I don't doubt that it will happen again. I have been treated like this in brief instances, since I was 12 years old. I know that people still treat is as okay or refuse to believe that it happened at all. The worst ones are the ones who believe I encouraged it. Apparently, every time someone gives me unwanted attention, I'm a cold hearted, home wrecking seductress.
I don't care if they smile at ME, I care if they smile AT me. I don't care if they accidentally brush against me, I care if they "accidentally" brush against me. I don't care if they look. I care if they leer.
