To be fetishized

There was this whiteboy a few years back who was fake-surprised black guys liked me cuz I was skinny. I had to do a proverbial pat on the head like, every. body. want. a. taste. Same thing I end up telling all my dudes. It doesn’t matter gay straight white black whatever. Please do not play with me in that way. Anywhere, everywhere I go. When I walk in the room or step out on the street. It’s either gay men trying to bring me in on a threesome or an eighteen year old hell bent on getting with me. Girls grabbing me up close, a ways away from whoever it is I came with. When I was young at clubs dancing with dudes they’d tell me they were about to fall in love, or lately on this bike I pull mad dudes more dudes than before. It’s nothing. Like I said, it’s regular. Had one dude tell me not too long ago that I should stop getting so dressed up when we go out because too many dudes were looking at me. I was like that’s just my life. He was like yea but now you’re with me. I was like ok well then this is our life lol. It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. Same dudes like me dressed up or working out. Hair up hair down. Outfit could be tight or loose, either way all it takes is one look.

-Rachel Wagner 2020

Other pieces I wrote on this topic: “Performing Femininity” & “Men Follow Me to My Car in the Dark” & “Dirty Money”


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