Last November, I stopped wearing pants, and it was amazing.

Technically, I had stopped wearing pants to bed a few years ago, but last November was when I stopped caring who saw me without pants on. I started to lounge around my house (or my dorm room) wearing what I felt most comfortable in, and oftentimes that meant no pants. Previously, I had been careful not to be caught walking around in my underwear by my friends or family, because I felt weird about it or, more accurately, because I thought that other people would think it was weird. Now, I simply don’t care what they think.

If I’m lounging around in my dorm without pants on, I’m not about to put them on just because someone else walks in the room. It’s not as if my bare legs and cotton underwear are scandalizing anyone.

The problem is that there are people that do think that the image of a woman’s bare legs is scandalizing. As if a woman showing any amount of skin, even in the privacy of her own home, is inherently sexual.

This year, I’ve become especially interested in thinking critically about what it means to be a woman in America, and how women are constantly policed and scrutinized by patriarchal norms. This is in part because my current dorm room window faces a number of other dorm windows—most of which are occupied by men. I’ve suddenly found myself hyper-aware of the presence of men in my personal space, even when my blinds are drawn. It’s caused me to analyze the influence that the male gaze has had on what I wear. Why do I have to feel self-conscious about walking around without pants on when that’s what I feel most comfortable in? How can I dress for myself when even my bedroom—my most private space—is invaded by the male gaze?

In her book Visual And Other Pleasures, feminist film critic Laura Mulvey describes the phenomenon of the male gaze as such: “In the traditional exhibitionist role women are simultaneously looked at and displayed, with their appearance coded for strong visual and erotic impact so that they can be said to connote to-be-looked-at-ness.” In other words, women are always subjected to male fantasies and desires. According to the male gaze, there is nothing more desirable than a woman that doesn’t know she looks sexy. The male fantasy lies in being able to view—and lust after—women in their “natural state”: sexy bedhead, a t-shirt that barely covers her ass, and lacy underwear.

Obviously, the reality is that when a woman doesn’t wear pants to sleep, it’s not inherently sexy. When I’m on my period, bloated and riddled with cramps, the last thing I want is the waistband of a pair of pants pressing against my uterus; and yet, according to the male gaze, my lack of pants must be for men’s pleasure. Women can dress however they want, and they don’t need to explain themselves to anyone, nor should they need to suffer through other people’s criticism.

Society views women as sexual objects. A woman’s personal style and comfort choices are not seen as her choices to make. Women are expected to abide by patriarchal rules, even in private, and if she doesn’t, then she is subjecting herself to the criticism of others. Other people feel entitled to police how a woman should dress and how her appearance could possibly be interpreted as sexual; however, these same people tend to be radio silent once it comes to policing men’s attire in the same way.

If a man were to run through the city shirtless, no one would even bat an eye, but if a woman were to mention that she sleeps without pants on, middle-aged women everywhere would clutch their pearls. Women are permitted to wear bathing suits that reveal the same amount of—or more—skin as underwear, and it’s perfectly acceptable. But once a woman starts walking around in her underwear at home, people throw a fit.

Our culture relies on hypersexualizing women’s bodies to keep them under patriarchal control. That’s why there’s nothing more threatening than a woman that doesn’t dress for the male gaze—and that’s exactly what happens when women stop wearing pants in private. I’m not saying that if women stop wearing pants, the patriarchy will suddenly crumble, but sleeping without pants has helped me feel empowered, and it might make other women feel the same.

No Pants to Bed