Brick House

For those of you who know me, you know that, well... I'm a bit hippy. Not hippy dippy, but hippy-baby'sgoingtofallrightout-hippy. I'm not a fat girl, by any means. I am just that traditional Rubenesque, pear-shaped woman. I work out, I have good muscles, but I'm not nor have I ever been traditional skinny. Baby got back.

When I was younger, it really use to bother me. In fact, I was made fun of for my body shape all throughout school. Most of my friends are part of the more traditional idea of bodies. Sizes 2-8, if you know what I mean. My twin, in fact, has always been super little. While I was a size 12, she was a 4. It was really hard. Something happened, though, and I realized that no amount of starving or working out or obsessing is going to change my bones. I am what I am.

However, until I moved to DC there was always something that bothered me a bit. Even though I've dated/made out/whatever you want to call it with a lot of people and I'm happily married to a man who adores me, I was never really the girl who gets hit on when we all went out, no matter how much I shook the junk in my trunk. As cool as I was with my body, as proud as I was that even though my twin is a size 4, she can't run half the time I can, there's still something to be said for the boost that comes from getting checked out by people you don't know.

DC, however, has been different. I don't know if it's the diversity that exists here or what, but it seems like every other day I'm being objectified by some random stranger. Sometimes its gay women, which is also flattering, as I'm open...save the fact that I'm married. But most of the times, I'm saying 9 out of 10, it's a man of color. And it's not just whistles or shout outs or the stereotypical construction crew whoop. I'm talking being flat out hit on. For no other reason than the way I look. I don't know if it's a cultural thing or what... I don't want to make any sort of racial or cultural generalization, but I am not kidding that the only white man to hit on me in the last 3 years was my husband.

Case in point: Today, I was walking back home from the Post Office about a half mile up the way from my apartment and a white van pulls over. The driver, a beautiful black man with long braids starts talking to me. I pull out my ear buds so I can hear the dude, and he's asking me if I live in the area.

Dude: You live around here beautiful?
Me: No, I'm just walking to the Post Office.
Dude: Really? Awww, that's too bad. You wanna a ride?
Me: No thanks. I'm fine walking.
Dude: Well, what's your name?
Me: Elizabeth.
Dude: What would you say if I gave you my card, would you call me?
Me: I'm sorry, but I'm married.
Dude: Really???? Awwww...
Me (holding up my ring hand): Yep, really.
Dude: Baby, I just wanna be friends, that's all. I just wanna be your friend.
Me: I don't think my husband would like that...
Dude: Oh baby, let's just be friends.
Me: Sorry, man.
Dude: Well you take care Gorgeous.
Me: You too.

In actuality, my husband wouldn't care. I just don't know if I trust that the man just wants to be my friend. I mean, do you really pick up friends while driving a van down the street? The Dude sounds a little skeevy in the dialogue, but really he was nice. It wasn't threatening at all. In fact, the only time I've been threatened by anyone here in DC is when I wouldn't give some drunk belligerent money outside Metro Center. This encounter is just a typical example of what happens to me. People stopping their cars in the street, a dude in Radio Shack asking me if I'm biracial (and would like to go out), a man getting OFF the subway just to talk to me. I'm not kidding on that last one. I had a man see me from the window, get off the train, and ask if I wanted to go get coffee. He said he just wanted to get to know me. Again, sounds skeevy, but it wasn't. In fact, it's very flattering. Ask Allison, she was there. I may have a big butt, but I don't have a big head.

While the feminist in me is roaring that this sort of behavior is unacceptable, that it promotes a Rape Culture in which men (of all races and creeds) believe that they have the right to talk to or harass a woman just because of how she looks, another part of me giggles like a school girl. None of my encounters have ever made me feel threatened, although I'm not saying that it hasn't other women. That's the conflict. I might find flattery in a man stepping off of the Metro, but another woman could have felt very uncomfortable or harassed. Or the man that got off could have had totally bad intentions or a bad spirit. It's a hard thing for me to feel happy about, knowing what I know about America's Rape Culture... But I would be lying if I didn't say that it's nice to know that there are people out there who find me attractive. I guess it's a wobbly line.

In the end, I suppose what I'm saying is that after years of being ignored for my body, I'm glad that there are people out there who really do like it if baby got back.