I have to say it.
Women who wear burqas are my real-life dementors. Seeing a woman, or what I presume is a woman, clothed in such a way that robs her of her identity and self-determination not only bothers me, but it terrifies me. And it does, in fact, cause that same sinking, dreadful feeling, as though my very soul is threatened by her shroud.
What I desperately need is a rational explanation for why some women are compelled to answer for men’s immorality.
Does anyone know?
From Chapel Hill to Notting Hill 