Sometime when I was in college, I completely stopped wearing bras.  I had small breasts and didn't really need them, and they were uncomfortable.  So why wear them? After graduation, I got my first real job, an office job at a "dot-com" during the time in the nineties when they were everywhere and were doing very well.  This office was casual, and fairly counterculture; you could wear whatever you wanted to work, even up to going barefoot around the office.  So naturally, I didn't start wearing bras.  I assumed that it was not an issue and that I was respected in spite of it, maybe even respected for making my own choices about wardrobe. What I found out, years later, came via gossip from an employee at that company who was still my friend.  He quoted one of the programmers talking about me: "Man, she had a great rack!  And it was always freezing in here, and she never wore a bra, so her nipples were always sticking out."  That was the first time I realized that men couldn't stop looking at and thinking about breasts, and if I did want to be respected, I'd better keep them contained in a bra and a loose shirt.  I never again went braless to the office, and I still hate bras!  But I don't think "I can wear whatever I want" anymore.

- Anonymous

I have a very funny pocket story. I had a pair of Costco/Kirkland MEN’s jeans on and four of us were going for a late night picnic when I realized my pockets were so deep I could almost put my entire forearm in them. I then started laughing and wondered if my two liter bottle of coke would fit…it did.

~ Anonymous

I saw the show yesterday and was so moved by the power of the stories, so many of which felt familiar to me. I have a story of my own to share: During the summer of 1989, I worked at a Denny's restaurant in Winooski as a waitress. Uniforms for both male and female servers included shorts. While the men were allowed to have bare legs, women were required to wear pantyhose under our shorts. I hated that--the look, the feel, and especially the fact that men didn't have to follow that particular rule. I asked my (male) manager what the point was (since men were the ones with the hairy legs, after all!), but he never gave me a straight answer. The best I could do was find a pair of super lightweight style that was close enough to my skin tone that it wasn't immediately obvious I was wearing them. Unfortunately, that made my manager suspicious, and most days when I arrived he would stop me, reach down, and pinch the fabric just to ensure I was actually wearing them--it wasn't enough for me to reassure him that I was. Now, I would never allow him to do that, but as a naive 22-year-old young woman, it didn't occur to me that I had any sort of recourse. There's one other topic I'd love to see included in the show: the idea of "unisex" sizing. There's no such thing! Every time I have to provide my size for a t-shirt for an event or company outing and I see the word "unisex," I know I will never wear that shirt again because the proportions will be all wrong. They should just call "unisex" what it is: "male." Thank you for hearing me out and for giving voice to this crucial topic!

~Anonymous

I greatly enjoyed your play because it put into words what I have experienced as a woman in this world so well. I have not suffered sexual abuse, but definitely emotional abuse by men, along with inappropriate remarks and attempts at touching. It took me years to realize I was dominated and controlled in my second marriage by my husband; the only good ideas were his ideas, even if they were mine to start with. These things are etched in my memory. One thing that was clear to me: once I reached mid-life, I became invisible to men, and sometimes even to other women. So hurtful. Stop telling me to smile, I will smile if I feel like it! P.S. I love pockets, and hate bras!

~Anonymous

I had a male boss - the manager of my department. He made everything into a sexual innuendo to the point where the other guys in the department started playing along too. It felt like if me and the other women I worked with didn't laugh and appreciate their humor we wouldn't be included in other conversations at work. It felt demoralizing.

~Anonymous

My mother went to our priest when we were kids. I didn't know about this until much later. She told him how our dad was molesting us. He told her to go home and "make it work." I guess the sanctity of marriage is more important than the safety of children. When I was first married I told my mom that my husband was bullying me and I was afraid. She told me to "go home and make it work." It took me years to realize she was only parroting what she was told. 

~Anonymous

I reported someone to HR, this guy who kept "accidentally" touching me. He'd brush by me on purpose. Even stand so close to me from behind in the elevator that I can feel him push his groin into me. HR made ME the problem. I had to fill out report after report and go to resolution meetings with the perv. Don't go to HR I tell my girlfriends. Makes it worse. I still have to work with that guy. And now he's angry. At me!

~Anonymous

I don't have a story to share. Just how I was raised, the man is the provider. He is in charge of the money. Literally my mom got an allowance and she was subservient to him. It's kind of like what we learned in church too.  She doesn't get my marriage and all of her advice feels like she's warning me to be careful, that my husband might leave me because I have an opinion or needs or something. 

~Anonymous