The Unseen Gaze: Why My Job Made Me Dread A Daughter
I’m 25, juggling two jobs to make ends meet in this expensive city. My online gig, moderating an adult content platform, was just for the extra cash – a mindless task to supplement my main income. I never imagined it would fundamentally alter my perception of the world, especially how I view women in our country.
Every single day, my primary responsibility is to filter out illicit uploads. And without fail, I’m confronted with the same horrifying pattern: real videos of unsuspecting women being secretly recorded in public spaces. They’re usually tagged ‘voyeur,’ making them easy to flag and delete, but impossible to erase from my mind. I see footage from bustling *bazaars*, women picking out groceries; from crowded *metro stations*, waiting for their commute; from lively *malls*, browsing with friends; even during *temple visits* or local festive gatherings. Men, with their phones, discreetly follow women, zoomed in on their backs, their *dupatta*-clad figures, their innocent movements.
It's not just a passing glance or an accidental capture; it's a deliberate, predatory act, filmed and uploaded for anonymous consumption. Each video is a violation, a chilling reminder that our public spaces, which should be safe for everyone, are often battlegrounds for women. This isn't just happening in some distant corner of the world; it’s right here, in our own cities and towns, in our culture.
This daily exposure has left a deep, unshakeable scar on my soul. How can I, in good conscience, bring a daughter into a world where her everyday existence is an invitation for this kind of perverse scrutiny? How can I possibly protect her from eyes that hide behind phone cameras, from this pervasive sense of always being watched, always being vulnerable? The thought paralyses me. I used to dream of having a family, a little girl running around. Now, that dream is completely overshadowed by an unbearable dread. I simply cannot bear the thought of my own daughter becoming one of those unwitting faces on my screen. This job has opened my eyes to the terrifying reality women are truly up against, and honestly, I don’t want a daughter.
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