Dear woman who told my friend One year at a Christmas party, When I was feeling liberated And dancing in a short dress, "I didn't know you liked those kind of girls." I went home with him that night, Made him make me a grilled cheese, And turned down his advances. Is that the kind of girl you meant? He was my friend, And it was not your place to judge, I will allow you to wear and do what you please with your body, I suggest you let me do the same. Dear sir, whoever you are, Who spiked my drink one winter evening, Because of you a night of my life went missing. I got away unscathed, But five hours disappeared While I wandered the city And the snow covered sidewalks Lost keys, lost purse, No idea where I lived. I pieced together the events with receipts And a bus ticket the next morning. I could have been left for dead. Dear police officer, Who dismissed a suspect Because how could a young white male, With no record of a parking ticket Be responsible for such a crime? This is why they get away with it. Assault does not have one face, One sex or race, And the more you set these limits The more we permit it. Dear journalism teachers, Who told me there was a glass ceiling, You lied. Women throughout my career Continue to prove you wrong, And that ceiling is nothing but an illusion Reflecting fears we don't need. Please do not put limitations Or expiration dates on dreams. My vagina is not my resume. Dear women, I don't have all of the answers But I want to remind you That this world is hard enough Without wearing other people's problems. Take them off, And save your energy For those who see your worth, And refuse the shame that That others try to clothe you in. This world belongs to you, So come as you are, There is no dress code here.