Let me set the scene: It's 10 pm, I have just purchased my favorite cherry lollipop from 7/11, and I'm taking a moment to pause and enjoy the artificial flavors on the sidewalk.
Then a middle-aged man exits his car, takes one look at me, and with a tone of bewilderment and arrogance asks (with an obnoxious look on his face to top it off), "Are you pregnant?"
"No," I reply, matching his ugly glare with an are-you-on-drugs sort of squint.
"Oh, sorry. I was going to say that you are too young."
At this point, the man enters 7/11 and I get into my car. Dumbfounded, I need a moment to get my thoughts together, when I decide it is only appropriate to chase this man down. I re-enter 7/11, find the man at the cash register, and point my artificially-flavored cherry lollipop at him.
"So what if I am pregnant? What business is it of yours? I don't care what you think my body looks like, MY BODY IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS."
Not much of a talker now, the man awkwardly mustered up an, "I agree."
As a woman, it seems like my body is automatically subjected to some heightened degree of commentary and observation. Whether it's sexual harassment, or the housekeeper telling my mom that I am "mas gorda," far too many people feel entitled to giving me an unwarranted and unwanted opinions.
Let me introduce a small concept called "boundaries." My body is mine. It's not yours. It's none of your business. Keep it to yourself.