It is the early 1990s, and I am a teenager working in a video rental chain. A group of older teens comes in, and it’s obvious they’ve been doing pot.

Customer: “Have you got that… that movie? With the big and the little guy?”

Me: “What are their names?”

Customer: “You know! Like… Arnold Schwarznugget and Danny Dorito?”

Me: “Yes, I think we have that. We also have a bunch of snacks here if you’d like to munch on something while you watch the movie?”

Customer: “Oh, wooooow! We have the munchies, too, bro! How did you know?”

Me: “Lucky guess.”

Easiest upsell ever. I hope they enjoyed “Twins”!

Back in the day, I worked for a cable TV service. I got a phone call from what sounded like an older woman.

Customer: “I have movie channels, but I don’t know where. My son usually makes the movies play for me.”

Me: “Is your son there with you?”

Customer: “No, he’s dead.”

Me: “Oh… I’m so sorry!”

Customer: “Well, I mean he’s dead to me. He married a man! A man! Can you believe it?”

Me: “I… see.”

Customer: “Okay, so how do I make the movie play?”

Me: “Okay, so if you’re looking at your remote control, there’s a red button that—”

Customer: “Never mind, this is already too complicated. I’ll just call him and pretend to forgive him.” *Click* 

What an awful woman.

A movie just came out about a popular girl’s doll. As such, I wanted to see the movie wearing pink, as many other men, women, and children were doing. I wore a pink tee shirt, a pair of black pumps (I didn’t have any pink shoes), and the highlight of the outfit, I thought, a pink tulle skirt with a slip underneath that went down to the top of my knees. There were at least three layers of tulle on the skirt, which made it puff out a lot — think of a ballgown skirt, but only to the knees.

As I started walking into the crowded lobby of the movie theater, I got a lot of stares in my direction, most of them toward my skirt, which spiked my social anxiety. I’m a bigger girl, and the skirt was only showing it off that much more with my calves, my knees, and a little bit of my thighs exposed. Maybe I should have just worn jeans? Once my friend showed up, we quickly made our way into the theater so I could hide the tulle under me as we sat.

Once the movie was over and my friend and I made our way out, the stares started again, reminding me of a particular scene in the movie where everyone was staring at the main character and she felt self-conscious. I started to feel the same way. I tried to hide it by talking to my friend about the movie, but inside, everything was telling me to run away and burn the skirt as soon as possible. It probably showed in my walking pace; my friend was walking a little bit faster to keep up with me.

As we were walking, I felt a small tap on my shoulder, and I turned around to see an older teenager or young adult woman, easily a decade younger than me (from a younger generation usually seen as rude in society).

Woman #1: “I saw you leaving the theater and I wanted to compliment you on your outfit!”

Me: *Starting to smile* “Thank you!”

Then, another woman called out to me.

Woman #2: “I love your skirt!”

The compliments from other women nearby started pouring in about my outfit. One of my favorites from one woman was that she saw my outfit and immediately thought of the doll featured in the movie.

Instead of running away, I waited to take a picture in the promotional box for the movie, complimenting others’ outfits as they complimented mine.

Typing this out now, I find myself tearing up at the memories. I hadn’t felt this pretty about myself in a long time. Thank you, director/co-writer, for making this movie for girls like me and even featuring one of the doll characters in the movie as a bigger girl.

Related:
We Are So Here For Women Supporting Women

It is the age of video rental stores, and a mother comes up to me to rent a movie that is notorious for looking innocent on the cover but being far from family-friendly. I normally wouldn’t care about this, but it’s her seven-year-old son who is holding the DVD to hand to me.

Me: “Ma’am, that film contains full frontal female nudity.”

Customer: “That’s fine.”

Me: “And quite graphic violence.”

Customer: “It’s all good; he goes to shoot deer with his dad all the time.”

I shrug and process the rental. Literally the next day, she’s back and slamming the DVD down in front of me.

Customer: “You never told me it was subtitled!” 

So THAT is where society draws the line.

About a decade ago, I was working as an extra on a film set. I’m a woman, and I was in my mid-thirties at the time. I was working with a couple of men who were friends of mine (and they still are). They’re really good folks; I’ve never seen them be anything but kind and respectful.

We were waiting to go on set, having a snack between scenes. I was eating a banana, and my friends and I were laughing about something — who knows what.

The costume lady came over and gestured for me to follow her. I went, thinking there was an issue with my costume. Nope. She wanted to talk to me privately. She whispered that she was concerned about me, and she warned me about the way I was eating my banana. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but I remember she said something about me “getting the other extras too excited”.

Even though I wasn’t all that young, I was a little insecure, and I was quite worried about offending. Also, this happened before #MeToo. Being a woman on a film set could be pretty precarious. I ducked into the washroom to finish my banana quietly and then went back to holding.

It never occurred to me that she was being ridiculous and that eating a banana was a perfectly normal, non-provocative thing to do. I just felt really embarrassed and a bit ashamed all day long.

To this day, I can’t eat a banana without feeling self-conscious if anyone else is around.