My Night Job’s Horrors: Why I Pray I Don’t Have a Daughter
I'm 25, just trying to make ends meet in this expensive city. My main job pays the bills, but it's my night gig, moderating an adult website, that truly keeps me afloat. I never thought I’d be doing something like this, but when you need the money, you don't always have a choice. What it’s shown me, though, has shattered something deep inside.
Every night, I sift through submissions, but the ones that truly haunt me are tagged #voyeur. These aren't just fantasy; they're real. Videos of unsuspecting women – walking through a busy bazaar, waiting for a bus, browsing a departmental store – their privacy invaded, their bodies filmed without consent. It’s always the same sick script: a man follows a woman, camera hidden, zooming in on her back, her legs, her anarkali or saree-clad figure.
I delete them, hundreds of them, day after day. My stomach churns with every click. How can someone be so brazen, so devoid of basic human respect? Before this job, I never truly understood the constant fear women live with. I heard stories, saw news reports, but this… this is seeing the predators in action, from their own perspective. It's an unfiltered look into the ugliness that lurks in our streets, our neighborhoods.
And that’s why, when people ask if I want a family, a daughter… a cold dread washes over me. How can I bring a girl child into a world where men treat women as objects, targets for their hidden cameras? Where her dignity can be stolen in a split second, forever uploaded onto some dark corner of the internet? The thought of my own daughter walking down these same streets, vulnerable, makes my blood run cold. I want to protect her, but what if the very air she breathes is tainted by such perversion? Honestly, I don't know if I can bear that fear. I don't want a daughter, not if this is the world waiting for her.
Anonymous confession. Share yours at Tell It There.
