Last Sunday I attended New York City’s “Go Topless parade", an event meant

Last Sunday I attended New York City’s “Go Topless parade", an event meant to protest for women’s right to “free the nipple” and to desexualize the female body. A few days later I’m still trying to figure out if the event felt more liberating or creepy. With the onslaught of emotions my friends and I felt afterwards, any time we talked about the event it felt more like we were talking about a slight trauma we all experienced, rather than something freeing. The good parts of the experience were bookended by hundreds of men non consensually taking photos of our bodies and gawking at us as if we were caged animals. 

As much as I expected photos to be taken and remarks to be made, I never imagined the scale in which it would happen and just how lousy it would all make me feel. By the time we made it to the park at the end of the march, men were swarming, sneering, and shoving their cameras and phones in every topless woman’s face. To make matters worse, the organization itself had a sloppy  message and focused more on one white woman screaming about her singular experience having the police arrest her for having her shirt off, than it did on any major issues women face regarding things such as the disturbing sexual assault statistics, harassment, breastfeeding in public, and the apparent entitlement many men feel they have over females bodies. When I was interviewed by the people running the protest (after feeling constantly pressured to take my shirt off when I wasn’t ready to) it all felt very shallow and sugar coated and to be honest I’m not even sure of my response to their questions because the whole day had put me in such a daze.

That’s not to say the entire experience was negative. There were plenty of awesome women and men who were supportive, relatable, and passionate about their reasons for being there. And I’d like to believe the organization holding the event was well meaning and at the very least they held the event in the first place which allowed me to go through this very sobering experience. 

But I wasn’t going to stand there and let the non-supporters film and photograph me for their own pleasure. Not without doing the only thing I could do to get back at them. I took their picture.

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