We’re Not Nice Girls
from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice
I am 50 now and may as well be a ghost. In the airport, no one notices me. It’s strange and freeing. No more gaze to shudder and shy away from. I no longer fear each man I pass. My daughters are still cursed with youth and beauty. The gaze began for them at 14-years-old. Grown men leering in crosswalks, shouting from car windows. Good thing my girls were never taught to be nice to men who make them uncomfortable.
My friend Christy Warren just told me about your Substack. So glad she did! This poem. I was in NY a couple of weeks ago and as I stood on a curb waiting to cross the street, I noticed a lovely young woman next to me. She was striking. A delivery guy on an ebike passed just then and catcalled her. It was so alarming, as I haven't heard a catcall in years. It is indeed strange and freeing to be in my 50's, but I sure wanted to put my arm through hers and make sure she wasn't one who missed the lesson of not being nice to men who make her feel uncomfortable.
This was chilling and beautiful