Rosé Colored Glasses

Saw this quote on pinterest:

“Because what men fear most about going to prison is what women fear most about walking down the sidewalk.”

Then read this article on facebook.

And I was brought back to a conversation I had with my boyfriend this weekend about something that happened the night before… it’s funny how life throws a lot of the same notions in your face repeatedly in a short amount of time… or maybe we just are hypersensitive to the subject and notice it more… but anyway, back to the point.

The older I get, the more I realize that as a woman, I see every aspect of life from a different set of lenses, just as my boyfriend has a different perspective due to his mixed race, just as my brother sees things in a different light because of his aspirations to be a police officer. Which all make sense when you put it that way, but in day-to-day activities, I certainly am not aware of how skewed things may be in my version of things until someone outside of that view brings light to it. For example, I wasn’t aware of how significantly different my expectations and interactions with people were until the conversation I had with Julian. We were talking about a situation that happened the same weekend, when we were downtown hanging out with friends (I was the token female in the group of four males), and I got hungry. Not an uncommon thing at all. So I walk out of the bar we were all in and get in line for the Mac N Cheese Food Truck. Within approximately fifteen seconds of getting in line, a young man, probably only a few years younger than I am, stepped next to me from behind me and attempted to make conversation. He was so close to me that I instinctively stepped a few inches back, to which he responded by stepping even closer and asking “getting food, huh?”. In my mind I was rolling my eyes and remarking back, “nope, I just really like standing in lines for no reason…”, but I resisted the urge to let that slip out. I shortly just answered “yep” without making eye contact. He then asked where I came from. I didn’t really know what he meant and so I asked back, in a kind of snarky tone I might add, what that even meant and for him to be more specific. He didn’t pick up on my tone and replied that he wanted to know what bar I came from. I turned and pointed to 317, and said in there, with those guys right by the window – hinting at the fact that I am with others, more importantly, with a guy and that I wasn’t seeking any more male company for the evening. Finally it was my turn to order and I walked right up, ordered, and walked as far away from the line as possible, while still being in close range to hear my name called when my food was done. Well, the rando and his friends followed me over to that area, and I turned my body away from them to look into the window in hopes of catching Julian’s attention, and to also show through my body language that again, I wasn’t interested in conversing with strangers. I could hear them talking loudly and one was repeating to the original guy who talked to me to “just do it”. Not wanting to really find out what they were talking about, I started to turn to just walk into the bar, when the encouraging friend pushed the first guy into my direction. Somehow I was prepared for something, so I moved quickly out of the way and gave him a look of WTF and before I could actually mutter those words to match my face, he goes, “sorry, I’m stuck babysitting these drunk idiots, they think they are funny.” I didn’t say anything back and continued to walk away, when I heard Julian yell through the window, “what are you doing?!” Startled, I turned towards him and thought he was questioning why I was talking to these people. Turns out, the gang of boys was making cupping shapes with their hand and pretending to squeeze my butt while I wasn’t facing them. I went to the window to talk to him and he asked if I wanted him to come out and I of course said yes. We waited for my food and went back inside to enjoy the remainder of our night with our other friends.

Now you may have just read that and think, wow, that was really an over exaggerated story and not a big deal, it could have been worse. Or you may think wow, that was really annoying and not cool of those guys. I personally feel both ways about it. It was really annoying of those guys to act that way and not pick up on social cues, but it was also not that big of a deal… and I say that it isn’t a big deal because it happens so often, that it isn’t a big deal to me anymore. But through my conversation with Julian, I realized that just because things like that happen all the time, doesn’t negate the fact that it is still not okay. I have become so used to men ignoring the signs that I am not interested in talking to them or thinking it is ok to touch me or talk about my body (more on that later… life of working in a bar) that I fail to understand just how demeaning and unjust it is. I am appreciative of my partner for noticing I was uncomfortable and for stepping in. I am proud of him for going against many when he says it’s not fair the daily injustices that women face and eventually learn to ignore. In a way though, it has almost made me more aware of the ways that I am constantly offended or discouraged or degraded. Now that I know how I view unjust things as normal I am a little upset about it. Might ignorance in this scenario be bliss?

* EDITED * I named this “Rosé Colored Glasses” because I think often times women mask the way we interpret situations, specifically indecent situations like the one aforementioned. Whether that mask come in the form of drinking, laughing it off, convincing ourselves it’s normal and socially acceptable, or blatantly ignoring the situation altogether, we tend to do whatever we can to go on with our lives and not be affected. Women are intentionally resilient and I love/hate it. Sometimes I applaud our ability to act as if we aren’t slighted and continue on, and sometimes I wonder if we were honest with others and most importantly ourselves about these situations if they would begin to change.

And the rosé (instead of just rose) is because bitches love rosé.

 

 

 

 

I actually wrote this last summer, and wanted to share it on this blog (I had an old one I wasn’t as active on…) because I saw this: