What the heck are you staring at, dude bro? Why are you glaring? Is that daggers in your eyes? Why so angry? Why so hostile? Why so murderous? Haven’t you ever seen a unicorn before?

Oh. Did you have a thought? Did you have an inkling of an idea? Before you realized I wasn’t quite the mountable mare you thought I was?

Why the heck are you still staring, dude bro? It’s been a long stare now. You’ve made your murderous point.

Oh. Did your inkling of an idea of a though continue a little too long for comfort. After you realized I wasn’t quite the mountable mare you thought I was?

Did you have an idea you didn’t like? Did you think a thinky think which made you shrink inside? Did you cringe? Did you feel a little tingle?

Did you have a sexy thought about unicorns?

 

Me

 

Context: So I went shopping for knickers and tanks and hair clips and whatnot. In one of those big cheap but not too shoddy chain stores.

I keep it pretty low key when I go to places like that. Undercover. Incognito.ย I was wearing skinny black jeans, an oversize plaid shirt, boots and a beanie. Neutral. Inconspicuous. Non challenging.

After I while I noticed some big burly boy who looked like he just walked of the construction site. He was ignoring the girl who was talking to him and showing him stuff. He was staring at me.

Glaring. Frowning. Glowering. All beetle browed hate.

He kept staring. And staring. Dagger eyes stuck to me like glue.

I get looks sometimes. Double takes. Stares. I get ‘miss. Oh, sorry sir.’ Or ‘sir. Oh, sorry miss,’ And that’s fine, just relax. It’s not an issue. I don’t expect perfection. I don’t expect miracles. I know I’m not usual, you’re not in trouble.

It’s all cool.

But sometimes I get these big burly alpha boys who stare and stare with eyes full of hate. Not often. But sometimes.

I wonder what makes them so cross. Are they confused? By who? By me, or by themselves? Who is the anger for? Is it a violent reaction to a subversive thought turned outwards?

It’s not really the hate which upsets me. It’s more the fact that people are conditioned to be their own thought police. Their own commissars. Taught to stamp out the flames of their own freedom. Trained to chain up their own sexual liberty.

If you’re attracted to someone and you’re not sure what’s in their underwear, just relax. It’s not subversive. It’s not sinful. It’s not sick to feel a little tingle and not know. You’re allowed to feel things.

But.

I would be happier if you saw me as a human being instead of a potentially mountable mare. Or an it to be stared at and hated.

Just relax, dude bro’s.