Darlene ChaniMaya Postma

It’s not a fucking compliment.

If you tell me to have a great day, beautiful, I will have the opposite of that.

We don’t know each other. Do not tell me I’m pretty. Do not try to strike up a conversation with me.

I do not wish to be perceived. I ignore you, no matter what you say. When you ask “how much”, I ignore you. When you tell me to smile, I ignore you. When you suggest things we should do together, when you make comments about my body, I ignore you.

Do you think I like this? Do you enjoy this? Who does this benefit? What is the power you seek over women like me?

I wish I could confront you, but you would say it was a compliment. You would get defensive. You would angry. Maybe, real angry.

Or, maybe you’d surprise me.

“I’ve seen the error of my ways,” you’d say. “I should go read more feminist theory.”

If you want to just say hello to me on the street, don’t.

I hope we never meet again.