Dating sri lanka colombo
Dating sri lanka colombo - online dating tips uk
If there’s one thing all my female friends have in common, it’s that all of them have been stared at, catcalled, dry-humped and masturbated at.It’s not that all of them are alluringly sexy (sorry, folks) or go out in leather and heels every day.
Perhaps we should start teaching life skills in school?
It happens whether they’re wearing jeans, shirts, skirts, hijabs, flat, sneakers.
One of them is a work colleague who helped me pick out a shirt for a wedding the other day.
But even so, it’s a fairly fucked-up situation when women have to feel like they’re crossing a battle zone every time they move ten meters in Kollupitiya. ___ Consider our public education system, which basically involves thousands of boys cooped up with other boys for twenty years and suddenly let loose upon the world.
Having been in this system, I can tell you that it’s fairly retarded, because most students of this system grow up not knowing that a girl is basically a human.
It’s an insolent, hostile, and yet strangely curious stare; a kind of stare that not just strips down the person on the receiving end, but also makes them feel like nothing more than a piece of meat in a dress and heels. Put it this way: if it was us guys in that situation, every single street in this would have at least a couple of fights breaking out across.
It is the look you would give when you could either eat someone or kill them, and not necessarily in that order. And while hardcore feminists will tell you that a woman can easily take on a man – I’ve met a few that could – most women aren’t going to put up a fight, especially in a skirt and heels.
Thus, the men have free license to ogle this strange species of object that they must someday take to bed and provide for, and the women resign themselves to their fates without once questioning their mothers and fathers and all the ripe idiots who feed them this tosh. It doesn’t really matter what social class you’re in.
Sometimes it’s the easy way out: sometimes it’s the only way out.
Interaction is usually limited to a homogeneous gang of hormonal schoolboys making weird noises at an equally homogenous gang of schoolgirls. The girls I knew had better handwriting than the boys and I was damned if I was going to spend hours trying to decipher rushed scrawls.
The only morals you inherit are those of the pack and whatever your mother mistakenly handed you – those golden, quintessentially Sri Lankan nuggets like “you know what they say about women who wear red” and “her skirt is so short her husband must be ashamed! Anyone breaking this mold is respectfully deemed to have “tapped that”. It doesn’t help that most girls pretty much play along with this behaviour, because most of them are also stuck with a thousand or so other girls in a puritanical single-sex school and have no idea how men are actually supposed to behave.
___ Now while discussing this, this friend of mine who walked across the street pointed out an interesting little factoid: a couple of years ago, she’d modelled in a slum.