“I can’t watch The Office S1 E3 anymore” by Anonymous

i hate that my boundaries of beauty
and femininity
and self-perception
somehow always ends up centering men
as if i can’t even claim one thing untouched
i wish i didn’t view myself through their eyes
their shallow, narrow gaze
like a grasp that won’t let go
no matter how many times i ask
[redacted] i didn’t want
and hours laying there on his** chest,
paralyzed after he kept pushing back at my no
i cry on the drive home and question if it was me
i must have been asking for it
after all, what did i expect?? really
i kept it secret for years
just one of many
like being told that he** wanted to choke me out
in second-period history
or that he** wanted to fuck the shit out of me
to some weeknd song
before he even knew my name
i often tell myself that others have it worse
diminishing the way he** destroyed things
my relationship with men
with my body
with any form of intimacy
with my mental health
i thought this was girlhood
i convinced myself of it
and sometimes in a sad roundabout way
i worry that it truly is a defining factor
for so many of us
boys are boys
and as a girl, you can’t f*cking win
you can play into their stereotypes,
their notions, and their fantasies
or can you reject them
the ending is always the same somehow
they always get what they want
their vocabulary lacking “no”
and as much as it hurts, if it all is my fault
then i can make sure it doesn’t happen again
my fault i walk home alone
my fault i took the drink
my fault i let him say those things to me
my fault i thought netflix meant tv
if it is my fault, maybe i can gain control
and sometimes i think that
i hate myself so much,
it feels like their empty words can fill me up
as if the pain they cause
somehow feels comforting and natural
predictable in a way
still, i long for an apology.
one i will never get
some say i am a masochist
while others say i’m just another 21-year-old girl
or maybe i am a “cunt,” if he’s** mad at me
and i can’t help but wonder
if they all mean the same thing to men
*I want to acknowledge that as a white, cisgender woman, my experiences are merely the beginning of what womanhood entails. The intersections of race and class further produce trauma and pain.
**denotes multiple different male-identifying individuals throughout this poem
-Anonymous