Time for a heavy post again. Sorry folks, this was due.
I've only realized in the past month just how much my physical demeanor affects all other aspects of me. Walking around certain neighborhoods of Rabat, or anywhere in Rabat a few hours after sundown, everything in the way I (and most other non-Moroccan girls) hold myself changes. These are in the times and places I want to avoid contact with men most- when I can feel them leering, when they call things and yell things, and when any response on my part would be to invite more attention at best and something I certainly don't want at worst.
My back and jaw tense up, my footsteps are heavy, and my face is bleak. I move quickly and deliberately. I keep my head forward but my eyes down, with a blank stare, and have mastered not meeting peoples' eyes but still looking at their bodies (it's harder than you'd think, though needing to pay attention to the sidewalk [or lack thereof] helps). I startle easily, and generally am more observant. I listen for anything and everything, but especially the sound of footfalls behind me. I am aware of everything but respond to nothing.
And I am not happy. My mood goes dark like my body has gone tense, in a definite response to the way I carry myself. Perhaps more startling is that it all evaporates as soon as I get inside, away from where I need to look disinterested and undesirable. It's almost like I'm back in theater rehearsals, practicing dropping in and out of the walk and affectations of my character at a word from the director, but here I'm dropping into another person's skin for a quick trip from the taxi stand to the door of my homestay.
I always recognized how much my mood affected my body language; how much being happy could put a bounce in my step. Up till now, I didn't recognize how much my body language affected my mood. It's eerie.
I've only realized in the past month just how much my physical demeanor affects all other aspects of me. Walking around certain neighborhoods of Rabat, or anywhere in Rabat a few hours after sundown, everything in the way I (and most other non-Moroccan girls) hold myself changes. These are in the times and places I want to avoid contact with men most- when I can feel them leering, when they call things and yell things, and when any response on my part would be to invite more attention at best and something I certainly don't want at worst.
My back and jaw tense up, my footsteps are heavy, and my face is bleak. I move quickly and deliberately. I keep my head forward but my eyes down, with a blank stare, and have mastered not meeting peoples' eyes but still looking at their bodies (it's harder than you'd think, though needing to pay attention to the sidewalk [or lack thereof] helps). I startle easily, and generally am more observant. I listen for anything and everything, but especially the sound of footfalls behind me. I am aware of everything but respond to nothing.
And I am not happy. My mood goes dark like my body has gone tense, in a definite response to the way I carry myself. Perhaps more startling is that it all evaporates as soon as I get inside, away from where I need to look disinterested and undesirable. It's almost like I'm back in theater rehearsals, practicing dropping in and out of the walk and affectations of my character at a word from the director, but here I'm dropping into another person's skin for a quick trip from the taxi stand to the door of my homestay.
I always recognized how much my mood affected my body language; how much being happy could put a bounce in my step. Up till now, I didn't recognize how much my body language affected my mood. It's eerie.
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