And so like my mother told me would happen, I walked the world of men alone, often discussing with other girls my age how to be a better product. A shinier product. Hot, wet, and ready. The first catcall made me doubt my body. Walk a different way to the mall, a quieter way, but not too quiet because then no one will hear you scream. The first assault made me afraid of my body. Your body is too tempting. Wear a baggy sweatshirt, not the low-cut sweater. Stop styling your hair, barely even brush it. No more make-up. Definitely no heels, they are too difficult to run in. The first rape made me
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