city girl's hips & thighs, strut your stuff chile

By the age of 10 I had breasts and my mother had long gone tossed my training bras. And at 12, my hips were wide and formed. My ass was firm and large according to everyone around me. A brickhouse; strong and solid. But at 12, to me I was just a girl who enjoyed reading books, playing hopscotch and eating sunflower seeds. To the world, especially to men two and three times my age, my body was to be gawked at and hyper-sexualized over. My body, caused limp dicks to get stiff while they'd lick their lips and stare with eyes full of raging lust and desire. A child, I'd walk quickly all while attempting to talk away the knotting in my stomach from the uncomfortable feeling of being preyed on. I was sure to be snatched up off the street one of those days. Thank God, it never happened.


A child is a child regardless of how fat her ass is, how robust her titties are, how wide and firm her hips look. A child is a child. But a city girl's hips and thighs can be a dangerous existence. Her body in time grows to be her worst enemy. It goes against her, contradicts what she feels compared to what the world sees.


I remember the gawking stares, comments, and lip smacking gestures. For a girl, not a woman, a girl, these can be the most damaging, damning years of her life. For a girl slowly attempting to grow into the woman she someday will become, these moments and times of her life could forever alter how she views herself, the world around her, and how she decidely chooses to dress.


Being a woman I've learned is just as much about our femininity as it is about our strength. But the feats are made tough when our bodies are sexualized over and commodified like Coldstone ice cream or the latest red bottoms. Products. Items. Things to be bought and sold to be enjoyed in the privacy of our homes. Disgusting. Point blank. I recall men being old enough to have grown up with my parents, though they too were young having been teenage parents, the point still remains these men were much older than I and thus, far more experienced than me. Disgusting. Because at the end of the day, if her back is turned to you, and the sillouette of a woman is what you see, perfectly formed and evenly distributed, when she turns into your direction, the face, that face of hers that you see, is that of a child,. the lust and sexualization in your eyes ought to cease, the thoughts of what you'd do to "that" surely ought to leave your mind just as quickly as they entered. Otherwise, you may as well have just mentally raped a child old enough to be your own. 


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