For the second week in a row, the CFW post is coming to you from Everyday Feminism. This is, in part, because I have a backlog of work over there that is now slowly getting published. It’s hard for me to find time to write more than one piece a week, so on the weeks that there is a piece over there, I usually just let that act as my post for both sites.
Temperatures above 32 degrees! Sunshine on my skin! Long walks with my partner and the puppy! Even just writing this makes me freak out a little in anticipation.
Which is why I was really surprised to see a woman express on Facebook how much she was dreading Spring.
“If it weren’t for the incredible weather, Spring would be intolerable.”
Comments immediately exploded with, “WHAT!?” “Spring is the best time of year!!” “Seriously? Why would you ever say that!?”
She went on to explain, “Don’t get me wrong. I want to love Spring, but the moment I step out in anything less than a full-length down coat, the street harassment-o-meter goes wild! I can’t take it!”
I immediately felt incredible shame. After all, when I am completely honest with myself, I know that I contribute to the kind of masculinity that causes her to dread Spring.
It’s not that I overtly participate in street harassment. Quite the opposite, really. Usually I try pretty hard to follow the lead of these guys.
But when I am completely honest with myself, I recognize that far too often, when I meet a woman, my eyes go down.
Every single woman knows exactly what I am talking about, as they experience it on the daily from pretty much every straight man (and even some not-so-sraight men).
And just about every straight man knows exactly what I’m talking about — because we’ve done it.
More Than Just Attraction
When I try to talk to other men (and some women) about this, I often get, “What’s the problem? It’s completely natural to look at another person’s body with attraction.”
And they’re right. I don’t mean to communicate that we should experience shame for feeling lust or for checking someone out.
And I suppose if my eyes wandering down existed in isolation, one could argue that it is simply a natural part of attraction.
We want to appreciate beauty, and part of that is taking in the physical beauty of the people around us.
But our actions never exist in isolation.
My wandering eyes exist as part of a daily onslaught women face where their bodies are treated as public property – leered at, jeered at, and objectified in every major media outlet and in the eyes of most men.
Objectified. Though the word is used on the regular, it is powerful.