I am not wrong

I want to tell you something,
and I want you to listen.
I want you to understand,
and not pass it off as teenage angst.

I want you  to know,
that when you scorn me for “acting” like a slut,
then turn around and praise my brother for being a player,
It hurts.
Alot.

I want you to know,
when you judge me by my hair and my skirt,
and not the good I’ve done,
I feel worthless.

I want you to know,
that even though I’m not alone,
you make me feel alienated.

I was 11 when I got called a “lesbo” for not dating a guy who later got into heavy drugs.
I was 12 when I got labeled depressed by people who didn’t even know me,
because my favorite jacket was black.
When I was 15 I chopped off my hair and dressed differently,
in order to gain back some control of my life.
In that same year I was hit on by men way older than me,
who saw how I dressed,
and thought I wanted it.
I was 16 when I layed in bed crying,
because everything you told me,
everything I was shown in the media,
labeled me a slut.
So I believed it,
At 17 I lost my virginity,
and I cried for an hour as the boy I love held me and told me over and over,
I wasn’t a slut.
I still don’t believe him.

This is NOT my fault,
this feeling of being trash,
a whore,
a slut,
I didn’t do it.

Sure,
they are my own thoughts.
But who put them there?
Who shoved it down my throat that if I lost my virginity,
that if I dressed a certain way,
if I kissed more than one boy,
I would be a slut,
YOU.
Who praises my brother for fucking girls without any emotions or commitment?
But condemns me for being ready?
YOU.
Who told me to change my shirt because it was too tight for me,
and I would look like I was asking for it?
YOU.
I threw away that shirt even though it was my favorite.

You are my father.
My mother.
My teachers.
My brothers.
My society.
My media.
My books and magazines.
My school
And my friends.

And because of you,
it takes a ton of energy,
to get up,
put on a happy face,
and remind myself,
I am not a slut,
I am not wrong.

I shouldn’t have to do that.
I shouldn’t have to tell myself I am not wrong.
Because I am not.
It is our society that is wrong,
our society condemns one group of people,
the praises the other,
for the same thing damn thing.
We alienate people,
when they need us the most,
when they are at their weakest.
I am not wrong,
YOU ARE.