The First Time I Became Aware That Grown Men Were Looking At Me.

I remember the first time I became aware that grown men were looking at me.

I couldn’t have been more than 12.

I don’t remember exactly where I was or who the man was. What I remember is the feeling. That horrible little shift in consciousness when you realize that someone is looking at you in a way that they shouldn’t be.

I remember suddenly becoming aware of men’s eyes.

I remember the world feeling different after that.

A few years ago, I saw that exact moment happen to another little girl.

I was in a café when a grandfather walked in with his granddaughter. She looked about 12 too. The guy serving them looked at her and made a comment that was just inappropriate enough that everyone knew what he meant.

Her grandfather was standing right there.

And I will never forget that girl’s face.

Because I knew that face.

I recognized that mixture of embarrassment, confusion and sudden self-consciousness. That horrible realization that something has changed, even though you haven’t changed at all.

One minute you’re just a kid walking into a café with your grandfather.

And the next, some grown man has decided you’re fair game.

She was so fucking young.

Girls notice.

Maybe we didn’t always have the language for it at that age. Maybe we couldn’t explain why a particular look or comment made our skin crawl.

But we noticed.

And I think so many women can remember that moment.

The responsibility is not on girls to cover themselves, make themselves smaller, or somehow avoid attracting the attention of grown men.

The responsibility is on grown men to look at a child and see a fucking child. She should get to remain one for as long as she is one