Walking home from a friend’s house on Saturday evening in Glasgow, I was accosted by a man who saw fit to comment on my height ( I am 6′ 2 trans woman). I ignored him and continued on my way, only to then have him follow me and ask me if I was ” a wummin or whit (sic).”

I thought the best thing was to try to be firm but polite and said to him, “I am just me.” He then quickly made a grab for my breasts and slurred ” Naw,.. too hard to be real,” leaving me shocked and vulnerable.

–  Anonymous

Location: Glasgow G42, UK

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The following was written for The Rumpus by runner Anne Valente and it is excerpted with permission:

“While I was out running this morning, I passed two men on the path. I run a six-mile route routinely, out and back on a paved trail that winds twelve miles through the woods behind my house, and I often see the same people each day, the same people who wave and nod hello though I’ll never know their names. It is a trail that makes me feel safe enough to wear earbuds when I run. It is a trail that makes me feel safe enough to let down my guard and look only for bluebirds and cardinals and the occasional shy deer. But when I passed these men I could hear them yelling at me, even above the sound of my earphones. They were not saying hello. Whatever they were saying, it was not friendly. My body went rigid when I knew I’d have to pass them again, on my way back home.

When I spotted them ahead, on my way back, there was no one else around.  I slowed my pace, considered running back the way I’d come.  Then I saw a biker far behind them.  So I ran.  I ran fast.  I ran as fast as my body would let me, so I would pass the men at the exact time that the biker did, so I would never be alone with them in a long stretch of otherwise empty woods.

They yelled at me anyway.  I ignored them.  I don’t know what they were saying.  I know it was some combination of lewdness and denigration.  I just kept running, away from them, far enough around a bend and up where I could see a few other bikers and walkers until I could finally slow my pace, a pace that slowed long before my lungs finally relaxed.

I am a runner.  I have been running for years.  I run not only for my health, and not only because it feels as natural to me as breathing.  I run so I can inhabit my own body.  I run so that in moments like these, when my lack of power in this world becomes more violently apparent, I can feel the strength of my own body, enough to ignore provocations, enough to know alone that I could destroy both of those men if I wanted.

In some corner of my mind, I know this isn’t true. I know that no matter how much weight I can bench press, no matter how hard my muscles get, no matter how much of a machine my body becomes, it will never be enough.

But it is something still, to feel my every fiber in my body coalesce. It is something to feel them gather in defense before a threat, to feel for one moment that I am more powerful than the world will ever know.

Because the world doesn’t know. Why should it? I realize over and over again, in so many different situations, that I live in a world that isn’t mine. A world that wasn’t built for me. I live in a world where there are threats, big and small. Threats that rear themselves when I least expect it, when I think I can at last relax. Threats that I must selectively ignore or they will consume me, whether I am on a path and two men remind me that there is nowhere, anywhere, that is safe.”

I am a student who lives in Brussels and as some might have acknowledged through the movie that was recently made and posted on this blog, street harassment is a common aspect of a woman’s everyday life. We are obliged to learn how to live with it because it is widely spread amongst young men that find it funny addressing to women in any kind of language. This same morning i was approached by a guy in a car who loudly suggested me to come with him and immediately drove away without leaving even the time to tell him how low this type of behaviour is. But we kind of learned to accept it, which is really humiliating, and I wanted to thank all those people who are trying to bring up this issue to media and common sense in order to try to stop this behaviour and give again to women respect and dignity.

Once I was in France, during my erasmus project, and i one night i wanted to attend a party in the opposite part of the city. I decided that walking by night for half an hour wouldn’t have been that safe so I ironically decided to take the metro to arrive at the party. but when i got in the station i realised i was completely alone and after a while a group of 6/7 boys came in and they immediately sat all around me trying to make an attempt. I knew I couldn’t escape nor ignore them cause that would have made them even more aggressive, nor i could stand up for my rights and my respect since they were far too many and there was nobody around. So i played the role of the “crazy in the coconut” girl.

After they asked me a few questions like where was i going or if i had a phone number i started asking them a series of questions without letting them think i was actually interested in going out with them, but stuff like: yeah, my friends are meeting me at the metro stop to go to a party, how about you guys, and hey, are you from here? do you like the city?… i kinda didn’t even let them finish with one answer and asked the following one with fake enthusiasm. The guys who were evidently just trying to annoy me got puzzled from my reaction and they didn’t find it funny anymore but they started getting more and more kind to me until one of them told me: “You know, it was nice meeting you, you’re very charming! have fun tonight!” it was the best move ever and they didn’t try to annoy me anymore, not even in the metro. I understood that sometimes politeness is the only weapon in these limit situations.

My worst experience though happened back in my city in Italy, which i always considered the safest one in the world. It was a saturday evening, after finishing studying in the university library. I was going home for dinner so i got out to the parking where i had left my car. I realised that as soon as i got out there was a guy walking behind me, but since my car was parked 100m from the bus stop i thought he was just going to the stop. In fact there were not so many cars parked at that moment. but when i got to the car i realised there was something wrong because there were no more cars around mine and the guy was going in the opposite direction of the bus stop. But i didn’t pay too much attention, i told myself: you’re paranoid! so i just got in. My car had rear doors aswell so by the moment i ignited the car the guy opened the rear door in an attempt to jump in. Fortunately i was fast enough to accelerate so he had to let go of the handle. i drove 500m down the road with my door opened until i felt safe to stop and close it. My knees were shaking, my heart was pumping hard and i was in flames from terror! I called my dad who took my to the police department to report the fact. On my way to join my dad i spotted the man who with nonchalance was waking towards the bus stop. I have always regretted not telling him from the car that he was very disgusting for attempting to aggress me and that he was a coward but the moment i passed i was too scared! i should have warned the people at the stop and i regret not doing that!

We always have to fight for our dignity, and that i learned after living here in Brussels where some good verbal spanking is always requested!

– Anonymous

Location: Lille, France and Italy

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On most days I find that I get stopped on the street by men. On a few occasions they have been aggressive, threatening and have followed me home. I have always dealt with it, and felt that it was a problem I shared with many woman and have even become accustomed to being particularly cautious and paranoid when I walk anywhere alone. I thought it was normal for woman to feel unsafe when out alone.

However, on my way back from work one day I was approached by a man on roller blades. I had heard him shout from quite a distance away and as usual, ignored it and carried on walking. The man eventually caught up with me and started to ask me questions, he was rude, intrusive and very very threatening. I tried to increase my pace until he eventually stood in front of me so I had no way of ignoring him. I pleaded with him to leave me alone, calmly at first but when I realized there was no way he was going to walk a way I got more desperate and begged him to stop.

Eventually he held back and I thought that It was over until I felt him come up behind me and grab me and start touching me. I was shocked. I screamed at him, “Don’t fucking touch me” and tried to raise alarm, but the one man that heard and saw what was happening walked away faster.

I felt helpless, vulnerable, weak and violated. It was almost as if I could feel his hands on me even after he skated away. I immediately called my parents and waited until I found someone to walk me home and called the police. It is safe to say that I have never felt so vulnerable in my whole life.

The fact that this man maliciously and intentionally touched me because I didn’t want to talk to him made the incident all the more sickening. I feel so angry and resentful; who made it acceptable for men to do this to me or any other woman that they decide is deserving of it?

Until this day, I have never thought twice about street harassment and more importantly I felt that I was never told, as a young girl by my school or by anybody that this is something I should speak out about and report to the police. At the age of only 19, I do not know if I will ever feel safe walking on the streets alone.

– S.L.

Location: Wandsworth Common, London, UK

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