Today a strange man sitting on a bench outside the library made a comment about my physical appearance. He told me that I was “So Beautiful.”

What was the purpose of this? I still do not know, because I didn’t ask for his opinion. I’ll tell you later how I responded to his “compliment.”

I was actually ready for him this time – I usually walk behind parked cars (which is actually dangerous and not recommended!) in order to avoid this very spot, but today I decided to take the quicker route. I sometimes walk right by the groups of men and stare them down if I’m up for it. I’ve actually been offered several such seemingly innocent compliments whenever I walk by groups of men in my hometown. I’ve heard plenty of comments from men- ranging from the benign “Nice coat” (Yes, it is a nice coat- I decorated it myself- I did not mind this one because it referred to an article of clothing) to a sexually explicit and racially insensitive remark.

I decided not to ignore this man’s comment today, because I believe that it is completely inappropriate and totally offensive to make ANY comment about a strange person’s body. It is not uplifting and it makes me feel uncomfortable. Why should I have to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed for walking from my car to the library?

Over the past year or so I’ve laboured far too long over the appropriate response to comments from strange men. What a sick world where this sort of thinking preoccupies a young woman’s thoughts! Today I turned and looked into his eyes and said, “You’re not.”

He was not. Remarking on a strange woman’s physical appearance is rude and insensitive – it is ugly. I don’t care if people look at me, but no one has the right to speak to me, touch me or approach me just because I’m in the vicinity. I wonder how he would feel if men started walking up to his daughter and telling her how beautiful she was? Perhaps the problem with these men is that they are entitled. Therefore I found it appropriate to show him that his comment was NOT appreciated. I am secure enough not to need positive or negative comments from people I encounter on the street.

I believe that all comments from strangers about a woman’s body are WRONG. I do not empty the contents of my mind upon every graceful lady and handsome gentleman- and nor should anyone else. I do not feel good when I am complimented in this manner; I feel dirty and disgusting. I wish that I were treated like a human being and not a creature with nice legs, a beauty, an object or a being merely intended for visual pleasure. Yes, there are worse things to be called (I have been called them), but I firmly believe that no one should be obligated to comment on my body. It’s only here to propel me from place to place after all- not a painting on the wall or a sideshow.

Today I felt strong and proud instead of scared and hurt. So, to the man who made a threatening and creepy pickup line at my place of work, the man who caught up to me and my sister and made suggestive remarks, the men who shout obscenities from the sidelines and the degenerates who dare to follow women- LEAVE US ALONE. My new responses range from a simple “Ha”, “very funny,” to “Fuck you.”

I will not keep my head down in fear; I’m strong, fast and agile- I’ll karate chop you in my mind and feel powerful for the next time. There will be a next time- won’t there?

If I see other women being treated this way I definitely will NOT remain silent. You and I both deserve respect.

And men, who are wondering whether a comment is appropriate or not: 99% of the time it is not. I’ll explain the difference: when a guy in a car complimented me on my coat I felt good- because I take pride in my appearance and I’m glad that my artistic skills are appreciated. However, do not assume that every woman feels the same way because we are individuals. Complimenting me on my body is forbidden. If a man my own age genuinely wants to talk to me he can strike up a conversation like a respectable human being. Comments from the peanut gallery are disgusting. No matter what she is wearing, a woman’s body is never a good conversation starter (But then again, you probably already know this).

Thank you for the existence of this website.

– Anonymous

Location: North Carolina

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I was walking home from the market with my younger sister, a very crowded market, Chandni Chowk in Delhi. It was around 6 p.m. in the evening, which is not at all late to be out.

A guy coming from the front groped me and when I pushed him back, even before i could say something he slapped me hard and started hitting me. The whole market (including men and women) just watched in amusement..as if it was some kind of an entertainment show going on.

I tried to fight back but the guy was just too huge and strong for me. I was all bruised and bleeding and what hurt me more wasn’t physical but the fact that no one came for my help. In the meanwhile my sister had called my dad, my house was just 2 minutes from there.

Dad came and he started hitting the guy. He ran away..the cops came but nothing happened. Like i said..he ran away.

I couldn’t use the same road for like a month or so. I still feel so scared when i leave home because the incident happened right in front of my house.

And the worst part is no one came for my help…they were people who see me daily leaving for college. And no one helped.

I feel so vulnerable now. It’s like anyone can do anything to me and no one will ever come forward to help me.

I’ts a curse being born a woman in this world. Every day i get eve teased and trust me even if it’s just passing comments..it is a mental torture. When men call out from behind that they want to fuck you or some one comments on your ass or your boobs. As if women are a sex object.

One can’t even ignore it..my parents don’t support me, they say just ignore..but how? I can’t ignore.

– Nasreen

Location: Chandni Chowk, Delhi, India

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I was just thinking about the “first” time I was harrassed, and wondered if others might like to share the first time they experienced this rather bizarre behaviour.

I now think that the first time I was harassed in this way was not actually on the street, but while I was waitressing when I was only about 16. A customer waved me over and said, “Tell me, how did you get such broad shoulders?”

This weird comment still strikes me as a really odd thing to say to a person, let alone a young female. I didn’t know how to react. I still don’t, a decade on.

To me this sort of thing comes under the umbrella of street harassment because it is an assessment of the physical features of a woman by a complete stranger she hasn’t spoken two words to.

What’s bizarre, and perhaps more infuriating, is that this oaf decided to make his rude assessment in the form of a question, which demands to be dignified with a response, even though, on the surface it is entirely rhetorical. How are you supposed to answer that?

Do any other people remember their first experiences of street harassment? How did you feel about it at the time and how have your feelings changed over time?

– Amber

Location: A work

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