I unlike "HIM"

Photo by Olivia Jane Huffman

Photo by Olivia Jane Huffman

There are times that I feel hot, an urge to touch my body and soothe myself. 

Sometimes these urges take over me in a public space, but I unlike "HIM" did not reach down into my pants to stroke what was beneath the zipper. I unlike "HIM" dream about someone touching me in the safety and security of my own home, relishing in the fact that I am alone to force my toes to curl and relax my face to silliness. I unlike "HIM" understand how fragile sexuality is and that to force a stranger to partake in "getting yourself off" is intrusive and harmful. I unlike "HIM" understand boundaries and compassion for sexual exploration. 

How do we teach "HIM" what respect is?

How do we teach "HIM"  to no longer harm women?


This poem is inspired by the public masturbator that followed me down the entry of the Bedford/Nostrand G subway stop in Brooklyn. The image above shows the open letter that I posted all over the area where he sexually assaulted me.

submitted by Olivia Jane Huffman