I was wearing fuzzy Juicy Couture pants with rhinestones across the back. They matched my outfit, I liked the fit, and they were comfortable. That was the entire thought process behind getting dressed.
Then my boyfriend told me I was sexualizing myself.
I’m 20 and he’s 21. When I explained that this wasn’t my intention and that his comment upset me, he acknowledged the first part. But he still thought the pants sexualized me because of where the rhinestones sat, what the word “juicy” suggested, and how the pants fit my body.
He also said I liked their appearance because of social conditioning and capitalism. Somehow, my fuzzy pants now required a much larger conversation than I’d anticipated.
I could understand that the word’s placement might look suggestive to someone passing by. But it was the brand’s logo. I’d seen it on plenty of their clothes, and I hadn’t bought these pants as a message about my body. To me, they looked like regular flared leggings with some sparkle.
What made the conversation hurt was how long it had taken me to feel comfortable with my shape. For a while, compliments from other people hadn’t changed how I saw my lower half. As I got older, I started liking it for myself. I could put something on, see how it fit, and feel good without that feeling being sexual.
His comment made that ordinary pleasure feel suspect. Instead of enjoying the outfit, I was wondering whether I was signaling for attention I didn’t want.
We talked, but I didn’t feel understood. He didn’t think he’d said anything wrong, and I couldn’t find the words to explain why his interpretation bothered me so much. I think he’s a good person. I don’t want to assign a cruel intention to something he may simply not understand.
I keep telling myself that bringing it up again would make too much of a small disagreement. Yet it’s still there, bothering me after the conversation is over.
How do I explain that liking the way clothes fit my body doesn’t mean I was asking anyone to read something into it—including him?
