She is not your property. She was not created for your commands, your politics, your twisted sense of correct behavior. She is not defined by monetary value or by how much of her skin is concealed or revealed.
She is not your entertainment piece. The way her hair lays, the curves of her body, the way her clothes look upon her - none of that was crafted in order to be looked at with lust craven eyes. She is more than breasts in a shirt and an ass in jeans.
She is not your slave. Her heart was threaded, and is thrumming, with passion for life, love for the world, and a desire to know people. She is not a skeletal system with skin on in order to carry out your commands. She is designed with purpose.
She feels things. Even if you aren't privy to them. Your words have the ability to break her spirit or set her wild soul on fire. She is not an idea of a person, she is an actual person.
She is not at your beck and call. She doesn't need to be. She has a life - she had one before you and she can have one after you. Let her live. She'll thank you for it later.
She isn't weak because she wants to know you. The fibers within her, they are braided with honest, raw, good intentionality. She does not take the time to get to know you on a whim. She does not ask questions to pry - she simply longs to know your story.
She is not deaf or blind or insignificant. She is magic, fire, sinewy strength.
She is not a trophy for you to parade around.
She is not a toy that was crafted for your pleasure.
She is more than something for you to crave and capture.
Stop mislabeling, assuming, and mistreating her.
Keep your hands to yourself. Keep your words soft. Stop whistling.
She isn't a dog. She's not up for purchase.
She doesn't need you in her life. If she's giving of her time, it's because she wants you there.
She is your sister. Your best friend. Your future bride.
She is somebody's daughter. Somebody's champion. Somebody's confidante.
She's the girl behind you in the check out lane. The barista making your latte. The small voice in the back of the classroom.
She has dreams that matter. A voice worth listening to. A creative process that is as beautiful and timeless as her unkempt hair.
She has a past. But so do you. She's got a future, too. She'll make you laugh and she's unforgettable.
She is me.