Dear Society,
When my sister first presented me with the idea of me writing for her project I didn't think much of it. Afterall I’m only thirteen. I haven’t been around that long. Then I started thinking about it and I realised I have been catcalled and I have been sexualised. I have been scared of society and the people in it. I’ve seen girls my age go through the same things and they’ve told me their stories. You see, at first I was going to do this anonymously but then I came to the conclusion that I shouldn’t hide what I‘ve gone through. So my name is Kaitlyn Krause. I'm thirteen years old. I play Volleyball, and Soccer, I ride horses and I don’t want to be anonymous. Sure what I’ve gone through isn't as bad as other girls or boys who have been assaulted or sexualised but it is something.
About a month ago I was on a road trip with my sister and my uncle. We were driving through Nevada, California, and Utah. While we were in Nevada we spent two nights and two days in the fabulous Las Vegas. On the second night we went to see the bellagio fountains and afterwards we began the fifteen minute walk back to our hotel. It was late, maybe around eleven forty five. People were getting drunk and I remember my uncle telling me that at parties or in places like Vegas you want to go home before midnight cause that was when it got more chaotic and people got reckless.
I remember her shoes, they were pink, the color people have at baby showers, pastel and super cute. They were lace, tied around her ankles and she was wearing what every girl wore in Vegas, a short black dress. I watched two drunk men waltz over to her and her friend. Maybe if they were sober it wouldn’t have happened, maybe it would've, who knows, but right then in that moment it was happening I don’t remember what they said. I’m just glad she wasn’t walking alone so as her friend flipped them off they dropped back until they were directly in front of us (my sister, my uncle and I) while the two girls sped up and disappeared.
Anyways my Uncle is a fast walker and well drunk people aren’t very fast. I don’t know if my Uncle was even aware of the situation. I didn’t know if he had noticed anything except the fact that they were slow and drunk. I never asked. I knew my sister knew though, I knew she was nervous, and I was too. I remember her grabbing my hand as she and I followed my uncle. I would have preferred to stay behind them. It would've taken longer to get back to the hotel but
I’d feel safer. I felt their eyes burn into my back and I heard them call my sister and I back. I almost began to shake. I knew my knees were wobbling and that I felt like puking. I had my purse and in my purse I had a pocket knife. I know I reached into my purse once we were past them to make sure if they caught up I'd be safe. I went through scenarios in my head and psyched myself out for at least the next thirty minutes. In a way it was eye opening but honestly it was scary. I pushed it away. I really didn’t think of much of it again until this project came up. I had put it in the past when I really shouldn't have.
To some people maybe all three of us were asking for it, the girl with the short black dress and adorable shoes. Me in really short shorts and a cropped tank top, my sister in flowy pants and a tube top. But that really shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’ t matter that I have hips, that my sister was strapless, that the girls dress was short. It shouldn’t matter what I wear, I get that I shouldn’t walk around my neighborhood in a bikini but I shouldn’t be worrying about my body in the middle of a crowded sidewalk while two men catcall me. I have friends who have been sexualised in sweats who have been whistled at in parking lots. So to sum this all up, dear society, sometimes you really suck.
-Kaitlyn Krause
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