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Some years ago, when I lived in Malaysia, I was recommending an outfit with three quarter sleeves to a hijabi friend (at the time 28 yo) when she said, “my dad would never let me wear that!” I was like, who cares, wear it when he isn’t around.
She told me that each morning before she went to work he sits at the bottom of the stairs with his coffee and his newspaper and judges her outfit, so there’s no way she could leave the house without that happening.
I could feel a dull rage throbbing for her. “So he looks at your body every day?” I asked. She started, “no, no, no. I’m wearing clothes.” “I know that,” I said, “But he’s still scrutinising your body, every day. Thinking about whether your body would arouse other men.”
She tried to explain it away. “Biasalah, orang tua (it’s normal for old people), he just wants me to be safe.” Women are not objects. A woman should be able to dress however she pleases. Just in case anyone needs a reminder.
