I’ve spoken about men on the streets who skulk and creep. The feminist in me feels blindly outraged every time I am harassed because my legs are bare or there are heels on my feet. It is unfair to be viewed so sexually. And how terrible that it is a part of life we as females have to just accept. But the other day, there I was, walking hurriedly down the street, tugging Biba along at my ankles and a man with the sunshine behind him, stopped me to politely tell me that both my dog & I were beautiful. He didn’t eye me up and down or mutter under his breath, he just stared me straight in the eye and told me something kind. How refreshing, a compliment that lifted my then low menstrual-cycle-induced self confidence. And it occurred to me while I’ll never see that man again, he reminded me that not all of them are bad. Sometimes I project my worst male experiences onto the entire sex entirely and that is a mistake. I fear I’m one bad breakup or extreme perv away from burning my bra. But he invigorated my often waning belief in the opposite sex. I tend to do that too often with people and other things. Camping, for instance I refuse but perhaps I should give it a chance? I adore the countryside it seems silly I wouldn’t enjoy sleeping amongst it. Purple lipstick, a colour I avoid but maybe it might look pretty on me? I won’t know until I slick some on. Metallics, typically too sparkly for my taste, but this dress? I love it. How easy it is to shut ourselves off, we close doors down based on perceptions gathered from our past. I find myself shutting, slamming and saying no to people, activities and even clothes all too often. Catch yourself and keep those doors open just enough to let the possibility potentially tempt you. That’s what I’ll do. I hope you do too. Funny how a casual kind word can highlight so many things, that man and his compliment inspired me in a way. And so I thought I’d share that with you today.