Silence.

Illustrated by: Niña Edora & Martha Gonzales

Since I was a child, I can remember my mother telling me to wear skirts less often.

As an innocent one who knows nothing, I questioned her.

But, I was silenced.

Since I was a child, I can remember my father telling me to not go out of the house anymore when the evening comes.

As a little one who goes out of the house to play, I questioned him.

But yet, I was silenced.

I never bothered to ask again with the fear of them rejecting every question that was made and that will be made upon the years.

I knew that I was not prepared for what the world has in store for me.

And, I didn’t know a lot about it because I was silenced at an early age.

As the years go by, everything started to make sense.

Everything started to make sense why my mother told me to wear jeans and not skirts.

Everything started to make sense why my father told me to go home as the sun is setting and not when the sun has already set.

Maybe because she didn’t want other people to mistake me as someone who’s wanting it or maybe because he didn’t want other people to mistaken me as someone who’s asking for it.

But, hear me out.

Mother, I am sorry because I was still harassed while I was wearing jeans.

Father, I am sorry because I was still cat called in the middle of the day.

Now, tell me, will I be silenced once again?

What I wear has nothing to do with sexual harassment.

What time I go home has nothing to do with sexual harassment.

And, being a lady has nothing to do with sexual harassment.