Britni de la Cretaz

It’s bad enough when I’m street harassed out by myself — I feel vulnerable and deciding how to respond can be hard. But it gets really complicated when I’m harassed and with my child.

Being both a mother and an activist can be tricky sometimes. Often, they seem to be at odds with each other. I can’t drop everything to show up for a protest, or meeting, because I have to find childcare, and my kid goes to bed at 6:30 PM. I have to consider my child’s safety when I make the decision to engage in a protest, or a direct action, even if she isn’t in attendance with me.

I want my child to be able to self-determine. What that means to me is that they know they have options besides the “default” one that’s plastered all over their TV screens, and that they always know that.

History books are full of white men Doing Things. White men are the default, it's through their lens that we view history. It's why when a white man is the first person to do something, they're just the "first person to do something," but we have to specify the "first woman" or "first African American" to do that same thing. Men are people, women are women.

"Go ahead, call me a bitch. It’s one of the nicest things you could say about me."

Studies have shown that teaching kids the actual terms for their private parts — instead of cutesy nicknames — decreases their chances of being targeted by a sexual predator. Their words are their weapon, whether they know it or not.

Street harassment is a global problem. Wherever you go, marginalized people have to deal with verbal abuse, harassment, and violence simply for entering public space.

There’s nothing wrong with moms who decide to go for a stereotypical “mom cut.” If they like it, or if it makes their lives easier, that’s fantastic. Personally, my hair after I had children remained just as important to me as it was before I had them. My hair has always been a huge part of my identity — candy-colored, funky, and so totally me.

Making the decision to get sober is never easy. Actually getting sober is even harder. So much has to change about the way you live your life in order to maintain, and it can be overwhelming to think about.

It’s been seven years since I left him. Most days he doesn’t cross my mind. I forget that he existed. The things that he put me through are filed away somewhere that never gets opened. I’ve done the work of understanding what I went through, of forgiving him for the abuse, of moving on with my life.