Harassment is extremely overlooked in this day and age, mainly due to the fact that the internet is now combining it with rizz, a Gen Z term for charisma. However, when Erica Bianca Dubash received a notification on Okay Cupid (OKC), a dating application in Singapore, she was appalled.
“You would look fine af if you lost some pounds” is an introduction message she received from a guy. He didn’t match with her, and he didn’t know her, so what compelled him to say this? Was the message even necessary or was he just trying to get a reaction out of her?
“He has no shame,” says Erica, “but I know he won’t say this to my face either. Judging a woman from their appearance alone is also super normalised, which is why I have deleted the app.”
She initially thought she could move on from that, thinking that introduction was just a one-in-a-million interaction but when more of these introductions started flooding her notifications, she started to feel insecure and uncomfortable in her own skin and body.
Unfortunately, this was not the only message that was sent to her. In a span of a few days, she saw many more messages that either shamed her or were suggestive in a harassing way. Some of the comments were just outright offensive and directed at her body build.
“Love how thicc you are, I wanna explore you”, and “you definitely have a bigger chest than me” are some other comments she received on the app. Although these don’t seem like shameful comments, they are seen as sexual harassment.
Erica looks back at the messages she would receive and they would either shame her or sexualise her. Neither of these is a way to flirt, it’s just straight up harassment.
“I hate that people are so confident behind a screen. They could’ve also ignored my profile but they chose to continue to send me these disgusting messages,” says Erica.
Some men feel too comfortable to dissect and comment on women’s bodies and appearances, especially since they’re hidden behind the screen. Erica’s incident shows a misogynistic stereotype that women only exist for male appraisal and that their bodies are for the public to comment on.
“Harizzment” only exists because society normalises such aggressive advances, dismissing them as mere “boys will be boys” behaviour or a poor attempt at flirting. But why are women consistently subjected to such coarse, objectifying phrases? Why are uncomfortable and inappropriate conversations thrown at them without consent? Why have we allowed harassment to be disguised as rizz?
This, unfortunately, shows the normalisation of misogyny and how it leaves women feeling insecure and uncomfortable in their own skin. Rizz is not an excuse to be disrespectful or predatory towards someone’s body. It’s time we stopped playing along with the notion that unwanted sexualisation or body shaming is anything but what it truly is: a form of harassment that reflects a persistent and insidious disrespect for women.
