Dear Mr. Street Harasser

Do you know that I am more than a pair of legs?
Do you know that I am a writer?
Do you know that in college my favorite subjects were English and Math?
Do you know that I joined the debate team?
Do you know that I love reading books?
Do you know that I watch How I Met Your Mother?
Do you know that I just learned how to cook tacos?
Do you know I’m taking singing lessons?
Do you know I love my friends?
Do you know I collect bus tickets and turn them into craft projects?
You should know that I’m not just a pair of legs.

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How many men feel that they have a right to harass?

How many men feel that they have the right to judge every woman they see and if she is wearing the “wrong” kind of clothing, then automatically these men think that it’s completely permissible to disrespect them? These men even think that women should just accept and even like being harassed, and if the woman responds with anger, then my god, she’s downright unreasonable! How can that be rational?

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New Category: Journalist’s Diary

Today, I decided to create a new category for this blog, and it will be called the journalist’s diary. Since I started my job in late 2012, I’ve largely neglected this blog. I’ve been writing almost everyday, but those were articles for the newspaper, which is to totally different from the conversational writing that I do for this blog.

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Fiction: Sex Shame, She Said

I don’t know why our Filipino teacher told us this when we were in high school. It definitely had no connection with Filipino. Maybe it was the fact that all of us in that classroom, and in that school, were girls, such that our teachers felt that they had to give our vaginas a talking to.

When Ms. de los Reyes had a boyfriend, she said she never gave into temptation. “If we break up, I knew, I could still look him in the eye and say ‘wala kang kinuha sa akin,’” she said with a glazed, far-reaching look on her face and a finger pointed up into empty air. They did break up, and so she was able to utter that dramatic line. Her message was clear: don’t have sex before you get married; you’ll feel ashamed when he leaves you.

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Bike and Bleed

My cousin Apple was two years younger than me, but she was the first one who learned how to ride the bike. She taunted me, riding the bike around me saying, “I know how to bike; you don’t. Belat!” Continue reading