I’m A Hoe

“Hoe”.

I’m a hoe. At least according to many that I have came in contact with. Imagine being called a hoe before they call you by your first name. Imagine being called a hoe when you were still a virgin. Imagine being called a hoe while being celibate. Imagine being called a hoe by men who still pursue to lay you down. Imagine being called a hoe by other girls and women who were fucking more than you. Or love sex just as much as you, if not more. Imagine being called a hoe for turning down a man’s sexual advances. Imagine being called a hoe for simply existing.

I remember one of the first times I was called a hoe. I was about 16 or 17. Still a virgin. Me and my sister was walking down the street, and there were some girls our age that stayed across the street. They kept yelling out their windows at us. They called us many hoes and many bitches. Me and my sister looked at each other in confusion. Imagine being called a hoe for walking down the street and enjoying the scenery. Imagine being called a hoe because of another girl or woman’s envy.

I remember the last time I was called a hoe. Or at least the last time where the word struck a cord. I was checking a man about his disrespect towards my mother. When his mama came into the conversation after he tattled taled on me, the first thing she called me was a hoe. Never met this woman ever in my life. I’m not even from their area, nor does she even know me. Never even slept with her sons. Yet she called me a hoe and it flowed out her mouth fairly easy. Imagine being called a hoe by a woman with 8-9 children and different baby daddies.

I remember the many times I was accused of being a hoe. I dated many men that didn’t value me. I dated many men that didn’t see my worth. They tried to play me. When I got tired of the games, and left….I was labelled a hoe. Their friends called me a hoe. The women they dated after called me a hoe. The women before me called me a hoe, for being chosen next. Imagine being called a hoe for refusing to be played or simply being chosen. Imagine being called a hoe by men who called you baby while they layed you down. Imagine being called a hoe by men who bragged to you about their own sexual escapades. Imagine being called a hoe by men that begged for the pussy, got the pussy, and slept in it. Was he talking to me or himself?

Since I was a young girl one of the biggest fears I had was to not be a hoe. I was told that a hoe wasn’t respected by my peers and elders. I was told that to be a good woman was to be pure and untouched until marriage. I was also told to keep a man that I had to please him. Yet, what I learned is that this label is hard to avoid regardless. Don’t dare speak up for yourself either or it’s a losing argument. Many hold someone’s reputation to a higher standard than their personal character or actions. Often a person’s reputation doesn’t require much proof to be believed.

Is a hoe simply a woman that makes her own choices? Is a hoe a woman that walks down the street minding her Business? Is it a woman that rejects a man’s advances? Is it a woman that pleases a man and moves on after the ship has sailed? Is it a woman who’s hated by a mother because she held her son accountable for his behavior? It is a woman that simply enjoys sex? Is a hoe simply a woman?

© Tanisha R. Coleman and Visions Of A Black Herstorian, LLC 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tanisha R. Coleman and Visions Of A Black Herstorian, LLC with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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3 comments

  1. I can feel ya. I mean, not as a woman being called a ‘hoe.’ But as a man having been called many things that I am not. Not all people care for the words they speak, and the kind of effect it can have on those who hear. And sadly, we can’t change others. But what I do is try to remember one of the lil truths that my mother taught me early on in life, “you don’t become what people call you.” Simple words she spoke to me as a kid, but I still remember. You are who you are. And what you are doesn’t depend on what people speak of you… 🙂

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