Corina Thorose, Melbourne, Australia, SSH Blog Correspondent
I drive a zippy little red Echo. It’s fairly girly, especially with the bumper stickers I have plastered all over the rear window, so most guys know it’s a woman’s car. I’m used to the odd look. We’re all guilty of checking out the person next to us. We might even try to pull up next to them at a red light for a second look if we like what we see.
Nothing about this said second look.
He stopped several cars ahead of me at the lights, and swivelled his entire head to look back me. At first I assumed he was just really indiscreet. Then as he moved off at the green very slowly so as to keep level with me, I assumed it was road rage, and that I had cut him off somewhere. But he wasn’t angry with me – he made his intentions very clear as followed me for a further 10 kilometres.
For the next 10k, I struggled to stay focused on the road as he harassed me. If he was behind me, he ran red lights to keep up with me. If he was in front, he braked so that I would be level with him. He drove with is head turned sideways, barely glancing at the road in front of him, staring at me with sex in his eyes and a lecherous grin on his face. I pulled back, allowing several cars to get between us, but he got even more reckless, diving into gaps of traffic to be next to me, looking me over with unrestrained lust.
I did something I haven’t done since I had gotten in trouble as a child. I rang my parents. Fortunately within ten minutes of their house, I told them I was being followed and to please meet me outside their house. I didn’t call the police, I didn’t drive to the nearest police station. I didn’t take down the creep’s details and make a report. None of these things occurred to me in my panic. All I wanted to do was put distance between us.
Eventually, I lost him. He didn’t hurt me in any way. There was no immediate danger and I was no worse off.
Except I was. I was pissed off. I was furious. How dare this man terrorise me on the street? In broad daylight, in the safety of my car, minding my own business, he terrified me. He reduced me to a child, ringing my parents for help instead of conducting myself as I normally do, with the grace and dignity of a thirty year old woman. My hands were shaking as I changed gears and I lost my logical thought process. I didn’t even take the rational course of action – what I always claimed I would do in that sort of situation – drive to the nearest police station and let them handle it. When you’re confronted with a threatening situation, something weird happens to your brain. It’s like tunnel vision – all I could think was stay on the road, keep moving, don’t look at him. He had complete power over me.
So, what’s the lesson here?
I know for next time (God forbid) to pick up my phone and dial 000. That’s what the police are there for. But if I’m honest with myself, I was scared that they would tell me to ignore it. That there was no real threat and he would go away if I paid him no attention. Because that’s how I’ve always handled street harassment. Don’t give them a reaction, just keep walking, don’t let the see you’re upset.
Fuck it.
I am upset.
When I told my friends what had happened to me, some of them did the unthinkable. They asked me what I was wearing. Like I’d been driving around in nipple tassels with a sign saying “Give It To Me” on the boot of my car. They told me not to take it personally, some guys are just losers, this guy obviously hasn’t gotten laid in ten years, and I’ve got big boobs – what did I expect?
I’ll tell you what I expect. I expect to be able to drive my car without being stalked. I expect to be treated according to my status as a living, breathing human being, and not according to my bust size. I expect that if I don’t shoot you a cheeky smile, you assume I’m not interested and LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. You don’t gawk, you don’t gape, you don’t slobber, you don’t yell, you don’t pantomime a blow job, and you don’t follow me to the point that I am scared for my life.
My name is Corina, and I’m joining you from Melbourne, Australia for the next few months. I want you to know that I am committed to making the world a safer place. Because it’s not unreasonable to expect to live in a harassment free world. It is not unreasonable to expect a man to control himself. It is not unreasonable to teach our sons they have no right to catcall or objectify or mistreat women in anyway. It is not unreasonable to expect to be treated with respect.
Street harassment is not the norm – it is a crime.
Corina is a journalist who is currently in a Masters’ program in Professional Writing. Follow her work on social media: @BrandosBride, www.facebook.com/theirownbells, instagram.com/theirownbells
