Men.

I'm beginning to hate men. Not all men. I love my husband. My dad. My brother. My friends. The nice cashier guy at Trader Joe's. These men I do not hate.

I hate strange men. I hate men who call me "baby girl" because I happen to make eye contact with them while walking back home. I hate men who don't know my name but demand I smile. I hate men who think that this is okay.

Who do they think they are? Who do they think I am?!

Being hit on has historically been a rare occurrence for me. A guy I knew in high school once called me "asexual" ... and he wasn't trying to be insulting - just observant.

Part of this weight loss journey has been learning that my 150 extra pounds were a literal and figurative wall against the world. I didn't have to really interact with people. I didn't have to have real feelings about real things because I was insulated from it all. The first part of this unveiling has mostly involved me learning how to feel feelings - have real emotions about real things and have that be okay.

This next part is shaping up to look like learning what it means to be an average woman in American society. I don't want to be. I don't like it. I don't like feeling pressure to eat the right womanly things. I don't like the pressure to wear make-up and fashionable clothes and have good hair. Part of me loves to do those things but I also hate the baggage that those things seem to come with.

It feels like a whole package deal wherein sexual harassment comes standard. My friends aren't outraged by this anymore. They've dealt with it for decades. It's normal for them. But it's all new to me and I hate it. I'm outraged. I'm disgusted.

I've been at a weight loss stall for a few months. All summer I've been stuck at almost 100 pounds lost. Part of this is that my doctor explained, "The first 100 pounds will be easy. The last 50 you'll have to work for." I'm not eating right or exercising as often as I should. I can blame it on being incredibly busy, but really I feel like I'm subconsciously (maybe consciously at this point) staying in this holding pattern until I can get used to the concept of a new me.

I feel scared and helpless. What if some "baby girl" type guy decides he wants to push the envelope? What am I going to do? No really. What the hell would I do? I can yell and kick and scream and I pray that I would be able to do that and not just freeze. But what if I froze and what if he's a lot stronger than me?

My current solution to this is to take a women's self defense class. I think I might feel better if I knew I could kick some ass and stand a chance. And I'm going to be outraged for a while.

Because this isn't okay.