Saturdays

I can still remember a time when Saturdays were about lazy wake-ups, family breakfast, and catching my favorite Saturday morning cartoons. There had even been the odd day where I could slip back into bed and catch a few more minutes of sleep before I would be reprimanded into Saturday Cleaning Day fun.

Unfortunately, those Saturdays no longer exist for me. I can't remember when things started to change, or if it's even finished changing. What I do know is that on this sleepless Saturday morning, while walking to my Korean lesson, I made a realization on a matter I've been avoiding since elementary school. At some point during those formative years, I had begun lying to myself. One of the best well-kept known secrets.

This wake up call came while I was in the process of walking by a group of men this morning and did not feel threatened. Now, I cannot speak for all women (cis or trans), but many of us share an unwanted understanding. This awareness that we share is that a group of men does not equal safe. It doesn't matter if we are with friends or walking on the opposite side of the street. Too often have we heard of our sisters being targeted simply for trying to exist.

Rape culture is alive and thriving in this man's world where women are seen more as a way to improve a reputation than a person.

Another human-being.

So yeah. We understand each other's fear.

But this morning, as I walked by this group of men, that fear could not be found. It wasn't because I suddenly felt a sense of womanly empowerment. Or the fact that Korea has felt safer to me than a time in the states. No, fear was no where to be found.

What I felt instead was my anxiety questioning if any of them found me even remotely worth looking at outside of my clearly foreign features. If I was even remotely worth attacking.

Let me say that again.

If I was even remotely worth attacking.

The wave of anger and disappointment that overcame me when I registered what I had just thought was so heavy, I had to sit down. I slipped into the nearest cafe and found a seat. I could ask myself if I lost my damn mind as many times as I wanted, but I wouldn't have been able to answer.

Because there it was.

The secret that has always been there, but I've managed to avoid in an almost comical routine as I pushed through the day. I finally confronted my unspoken secret on the second floor of an Ediya cafe, two hours before my Korean lesson on a Saturday morning.

My lack of self-esteem, my self-worth...they were no longer a secret.

I don't know how this may change me, now that I'm acknowledging what I lack. Maybe I'll find that empowerment or perhaps my self-esteem will get at least a little boost?

Who really knows?

#SaveOurToya