An Open Letter To Boys Who Are Friends With Girls

Dear boys--

You know I love you. Yes, all of you. I love you because you are crude and crass, because you love dick jokes and drinking beer [all of the things that I love]. I love you because you let me be "one of the guys" and because you let me shoot straight.

But there is something you need to know.

Each and every time you criticize a woman's body, you criticize my body. Let's face it, I'm not Victoria's Secret model. I have genuine curves. No matter what you call it--I am thick, voluptuous, plump, zaftig, fat. I am also smart and funny, vivacious and interesting.

But when you criticize a woman's body, you relegate me to that first list. When you call a woman who is smaller than me "fat," then you are calling me--to my face, no less--fat as well.

Seriously, can you not see me here? It's been so hard for me to maintain anything above a shitty self-esteem. But I've done it, because I know that I have those second list qualities. Because there is at least one boy who find me sexy--who loves my ass and my tits, everything between and above.

But when you say that you don't care how a woman acts or how smart she is, when you say you only care how "hot" it is, then you are working hard to damage me. You are telling me that it doesn't matter how hard I've worked to achieve my goals. That it will never matter how funny I am, or that I can wipe your ass with Guitar Hero. That as long as I have a pants size in the double digits, I don't count for anything.

And goddamn it, when you climb all over yourself to invite someone "hot" that I have openly expressed distaste for to our weekly evening events--then it means that you don't care about my opinions. So, also--thanks for that.

So, dearest boys--I love you. But think about the girls sitting to your left or right when you say these things. Seriously, I promise--we're listening. And your words are stabbing wounds into us, no matter how much you want to think they're not.