Do Not Address Me About My Dress

(For a time, my father decided he was going to join a particular religion. During that time, he would have some fellows from church that would come over and talk about lessons with him. I have never been religious and after going to his church only once I decided never to go back again due to the men being extremely sexist. They refused to acknowledge my existence because I wore dress slacks to their church and they felt that women should only wear dresses or skirts. One day the church fellows come to the house shortly before I wake up. I wore a tank top and shorts to sleep.)

Me: *wanders into kitchen, groggy, searching for breakfast*

Fellow #1: “Please do not wander about so scandalously dressed!”

Me: *freezes and slowly turns to stare at the three men at the table, not having realized they were there* “I’m in my own house, I just woke up, and you have the audacity to tell me how I should dress in my own house?”

Fellow #2: “Women should not walk around so carelessly dressed! Showing off so much skin is sinful and tempting behavior.”

(This is not the first time these same ones have come at me for my dress. They almost always said something rude about my “daring to wear pants” or “showing off my shoulders.” I have finally had enough.)

Me: “If it was up to me, you would never set foot in this house. I tolerate it because it’s my dad’s choice to practice your faith. Back off.”

Fellow #1: “A woman has no right to tell a man what he can or can’t do in another man’s house!”

Me: “I can tell you whatever the f*** I want. I do not believe in your religion, which I feel is pretty horribly sexist. Now, leave me the f*** alone so I can eat my breakfast.”

Fellow #1: *to my father* “Your daughter is very rude, and you should discipline her for speaking in such a manner in front of men!”

Me: *poking my head out of the kitchen where I went to fix a bagel* “You lay a finger on me and I will break your arm.”

Fellow #2: “Did that girl just threaten her own father?! What blasphemy!” *to my father* “It is your right to punish her for acting so shamefully!”

Me: *storming into the room, slamming my hands on the table, and leaning close to their faces* “I will do it. I don’t make threats. I don’t take s***. I am my own person and I’ll be d***ed before I ever let some man try and act like I am property! I know that you just urged my father to beat me, and I would never let him or any man lay a hand on me! I am not like other meek women who will just do as told because ‘you’re a man.’ Before he found your religion, my father raised me to think for myself and to never let a man rule me or my life. That’s how I was raised, and that’s the father I will listen to, not the man your religion is making him if he thinks anything like you!”

(I grabbed my bagel and went back to my room, leaving them in stunned silence. My dad, who had been quiet through the whole thing, later asked me not to come out when they were around. The next time those same church fellows came to the house, they asked my dad if he had properly punished “the shameful one.” My dad slammed the door in their faces after telling them he would never tolerate someone speaking of his daughter that way. He came and thanked me, because he realized he was changing due to that outburst, and hugged me. It made him realize he was becoming the very thing he always warned me about. He never went back to their church again.)