8.1.13

Don't tell me what to do

Once, in high school, me and a bunch of girls rode in our friend's car, who's a boy. It was a short ride, about 10 minutes or so, and it was a necessary ride. We needed to get to this one place for an event, and this friend was kind enough to drove us. 
Among those girls, there was this one girl, who sat on the very back seat and looked nervous. Later that day, she was crying. I asked the other girl "Whadduup with her?"
Apparently, her boyfriend forbid her to get on car with other boys. And when she confessed to him that she rode with us and our male friend was driving, he got mad, yelled at her, and she felt guilty and cried. 
And I remember how I and the rest of the girl got so furiously mad. We said "The fuck is your boyfriend's problem? The fuck is your problem?"

I never understand why some girls need permission from their boyfriends to do some very mundane and not at all dangerous activity. I mean, seriously. SERIOUSLY. We're all adults here, we don't need permission to cut our hair, to buy shoes, to go hang out with our friends. We don't need rules on how to dress ourselves, who to befriend, what brand of lotion to wear, and how to fuckin run our lives. 

My main argument was always "Even my mom and dad, who have spent millions and millions of their money raising me, not to mention the unaccountable hours, energy, love, and devotion in taking care of me, never yell at me for cutting my hair so short, or going swimming with my friends, or riding in car with boys. Because they believe in me. They know that I am not so stupid that just talking with a criminal would turn me into one."

And that the argument I'm going to use now. If my parents allow it, then no one else should have the fuckin nerve to forbid me.

Plus, having boys telling me what I can or can't do really make me want to punch their smug faces. I am an independent, strong woman. Once, I built a three doors wardrobe, two bookshelves, a tv shelf, in one day. I can change the door lock, the shower, and figure out how things work most of the time. I can carry heavy things, crossing roads without anyone holding my hand, win a grab contest with a thief, and spend nights in an apartment with no electricity or gas.

So if you dare telling me "You shouldn't cut your hair. Women are supposed to have long hair." I'd say "Well, you shouldn't stand here talking to me, assholes are supposed to jump off their own asses and die."

Being told what to do doesn't make me feel loved or protected, it makes me feel belittled and undermined.

Yeah Amy, werd!

2 comments:

  1. Yay for win a grab competition with a thief! ahahhaha. u are a warrior princess dindaaaa :))

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  2. yes yes. I even want my niece to call me "Makcik Kuat". Hell yeah, I'm my own woman, and yeah, I rule.

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