A letter to the men that catcalled me

Dear John,
I always wondered why I drop all my home training once I pass the gates of my home. Why I always acted in a rush or deaf while walking. Or why I wouldn’t dare to wear a skirt, dress, tight jeans when I walked out alone. All these brought me back to you.
You made me feel unsafe during broad daylight.
You never respected my personal space and cursed me for not responding to your calls.
You taught me what objectification is at a tender age.
I changed routes so many times hoping not to meet anyone of your kind, but I realized you come in all forms and shapes.
Don’t you have anything better to do with your days?
Are you happy to be called neighborhood terror?
I never understood your drive or intensions but whatever it is, know that never added any value on your personality.
Let me be honest, now that I am writing to you.
I am not sorry for the unceasing curses I murmured your way.
I am not sorry to hate you and your kind that always hangs out with you around the corner.
I am not sorry for wishing bad things to you.
I wish I could have told the harm you caused.
I wish you knew how many women took the farthest rout avoiding you.
I wish you knew how catcalling wasn’t a good look on your face.
So keeping up with honesty, dear catcaller please STOP IT!!!!
I don’t care about your whys, whens and wheres.
Find better ways to contribute to society.
Sincerely,
Laulau