So we just recently began Sex Ed in my 11th grade health class. Now as you may or may not know, my class is coed. Boys and girls. The teacher is a woman. That’ll come in to play later. Anyway, today we were learning about sex and the brain. The teacher, we’ll call her Mrs H, said something along the lines of “Boys are more visually aroused. If they see something they like, that’s going to be the focus of their arousal.” And I’m thinking to myself ‘ok, that makes sense.’ But then. BUT THEN… She says, “So girls, if you’re wearing something revealing and you’re thinking ‘Oh I look cute in this outfit. I look good for Instagram ’ and you’re going out with a boy and he gets aroused, finish the job. You wore that outfit. You chose to wear revealing clothes. You INVITED his attention. You have to finish the job.” And I’m sitting there, in class, listening to all the guys around me agreeing and laughing with her, and I’m looking around at the other girls in the room, thinking, ‘WHAT the literal FUCK did I just hear you say?’ I’m sorry if I offend anyone, but I am not a task to be finished. I am not a job. I am NOT responsible for any guy’s inability to concentrate on anything more than the masses of fat on my chest. I am NOT to be held responsible for an immature goober’s sex drive. If being in the presence of me and my physical features, of which I have little to no control over, is that difficult, then go away. Don’t come near me. Avoid me like I’m the black plague. But DO NOT blame me for you getting wound up at my appearance. DO NOT accuse me of playing coy, being flirty, being a tease, just because we had different ideas of what was going to happen. After class today, I was walking with a friend who was in that class with me and I said, “If any guys get kicked in the nads because of what she just said, I better not hear of any girl getting in trouble.” And my friend, we’ll call her JJ, agreed with me, saying “ I am not a task to be dealt with.” So girls out there, just remember, if you wear revealing clothes and guys come on to you, it’s your fault, you brought this on yourself. Finish the job. Lovingly place both of your hands on his shoulders, gaze deeply into his eyes, give him all of your attention, and then proceed to DRIVE your knee as HARD as you can into his nads and while he lays on the ground whimpering and crying, lean down and ask, “Are my clothes distracting you now?” Then walk away.