Bare shoulders, bare arms, a decently long neck revealing more skin, perhaps. An otherwise covered top, covered legs, and a tie-around jacket to hide my behind. A gaze narrowed, more often than I am accepting of. It is not that I do not appreciate being whistle-worthy; I greatly despise the system of whistling. I do not like to compare myself to others who are receiving greater whistles. I do not like whistles to define my worth, beauty, sexuality, attractiveness, or appeal as a woman.
The sun in foreign places has always been better than the sun in my town because of how much it has restricted my actions. My sister says, you can wear anything, and this is true. I believe I want to wear these things, I can wear these things, I look good this way- I am still deserving of respect. A grande portion of myself hides from a society so impacting, to the extent where I purchase everything I wish to adorn, off my shoulder or netting across my belly, but leave it in my locked closet. Elsewhere, I can wear anything. Everything I want to be happens elsewhere, so why am I still here?
I understand he will look away from the road while driving, regardless of the danger this creates, to observe my body. Something merely about a woman’s physicality seems to reveal everything about her sexuality, mindset, and intention. Of course, she is available. Have her stand in front of you and gape, touch, squeal, or do everything you have thought of across nights. However, she will never reciprocate your feelings, your stare, or your excitement. She comes with respect and self-protection- she will surrender only to her companion provided by the Almighty.