A man approached me closely and try to look under my skirt.

– Anonymous

Location: Wembley Park, London, UK

The bus was late, as usual, so I was waiting at the street corner when a pick-up truck pulled up and I heard at least one of the three men inside whistle at me. I looked at them, and the whistling turned to kissing sounds. I turned my attention to my phone, but turned the volume down in my headphones so I could keep tabs on them. For a fleeting moment, I considered the fact that there wouldn’t be much stopping them from grabbing me, if they wanted to. I realized that would be highly unlikely, but the thought occurred to me all the same.

They were stuck at a red light, and I was waiting for my bus, so there was nowhere for me to go without risking missing my ride. I just stood there trying to ignore them. Finally, the light turned green and they drove off.

They’ve probably forgotten all about it already, but I haven’t. I feel angry and annoyed. They were so nonchalant about it, but I will spend the rest of my day thinking about what thoughts might have been running through their heads, how many other women they’ll objectify, and whether or not I’ll experience street harassment again today.

Oh, and not that it matters, but I was wearing jeans, a loose-fitting orange t-shirt with a high neck-line, and a grey hoodie. I daydreamed about slapping his puckered lips straight off his face, like a twisted Donald Duck cartoon.

Do you have any suggestions for dealing with harassers and/or ending street harassment in general?

People need to learn that it’s not okay. That seems to be the biggest issue. Men feel entitled to say something or whistle, and they expect us to allow it or even be appreciative. It’s not a compliment. It’s harassment and it’s got to stop. We need to teach our sons better.

– Anonymous

Location: Sherman Ave. & Columbia Rd., NW, Washington, D.C.

I am young East Asian girl and I experience stares from usually (over 40yrs old, White men) that makes me feel patronized, humiliated and angry. There is a growing trend for objectifying East Asian women in Western countries and many men seem to view Asian girls as some sort of pleasure giving objects. That is exactly the kind of gaze that I get from some men in the streets.

I am not wearing any revealing clothes and don’t have much make-up except eyeliner and it makes me angry to get these stares. It is hard for me to tell others as I am afraid to sound paranoid. Nowadays, if I sense any men trying to approach me in the streets, I would simply walk away, however just few days ago, there was this really old man who just keep standing next to me whilst I was waiting for a bus. I moved away but he would again come to the point where I was standing and just stare at me. I felt uncomfortable so I had to walk to next bus stop. I have been living in London for over 10 years and felt normally safe but these experiences are becoming nuisances to me and I feel not so safe anymore.

– Anonymous

Location: London, UK

The first time I was sexually harassed by men while I was on the street, I was seven years old. I was crossing in front of my house when a carload of men drove by and hooted and whistled at me and yelled that I was sexy.

Although young, I knew the implication of their catcalls, and I ran as fast as I could into my house, my head ducked down and my cheeks hot with shame. I felt very embarrassed that I had been noticed by these much older men and had been seen in a sexual way – and I remember distinctly feeling it was because I had done something wrong. I even knew what it was I had done.

I was always an older-looking child. At seven years old, I probably passed for maybe 10 (not that this would be any improvement as far as the carload of men is concerned). I was still very much a kid though, and I loved Michael Jackson and wanted to learn to dance just like him. My mom, in a tragic effort to be ‘cool’, had taken my brand-new, favorite Michael Jackson t-shirt out of my drawer after I just got it, and had cut the sleeves and bottom hem into long strips of fabric on which she had affixed wooden, colored beads.

When she presented it to me as a birthday gift later, I was devastated. We were very poor. The four of us (me, mom, half-brother, mom’s creepy boyfriend) had been living in an actual school bus up until very recently. It had been hard enough to talk her into buying that shirt for me to begin with, and then she had taken it from my drawer and shredded it.

I didn’t like the look of that beaded t-shirt at all, it felt too grown up and attention-needy for me. The effect was more revealing and ‘sexy’ than a normal t-shirt, and was usually worn by girls more than twice my age, or by older hippies like my mom. But I loved Michael Jackson, and I really missed the other t-shirt I never got to wear.

So, that day I gave in and tried out this horribly revised/shredded t-shirt, crossing the street in front of our house when these men drove by and saw me, a tubby, tallish, seven-year old in an awful shirt that was very inappropriate for her, and they whistled, hooted, and yelled, “Hey sexy!!”

I felt that it was very much my fault, because I knew damn well how I looked in that shirt even if my mom was clueless (the reason why is a whole other story of my inappropriate childhood). I didn’t even want to wear that shirt, but I had worn it that day even though I had a bad feeling about it. And look what happened, it was my fault.

It didn’t save me from getting harassed by men again later as a child, teenager, or woman – but I never wore that f***ing t-shirt again.

Do you have any suggestions for dealing with harassers and/or ending street harassment in general?

Everyone should be taught how to confront street harassment the very moment that it happens. In the moment, without prior preparation, it is very hard to push back or respond in an assertive way because you’re humiliated and off-guard.

– Anonymous

Location: Cedaredge, CO