I’m naturally blonde. I once thought this may have been the reason why the male species took such an interest. I went brunette, tried to look less appealing. Made little difference.
I’m naturally slim. I ate and I ate – only my boobs seemed to grow in size. I tried wearing a smaller bra – it made them pop out, it made the boys stare. I tried wearing no bra. What did I expect?
I thought it may have been the way I dressed. I turned to black, covered every inch. I ceased to style my hair. Makeup was not essential.
I took the bus into town one night. A group of girls giggled at my shoes. I smiled.
I sat down at the park, alone, I thought. Ah, normality. Peace. At last – invisibility.
Of course I had been followed – they soon came to greet me.
Men dressed as teenage boys, holding cans of Stella. They cheered, they jeered. I tried to walk away. They had me surrounded, twelve of them in a ring. They examined me with interest. They must have thought I looked appealing.
I walked home a while later, ugly and bleeding.

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