Let me set the scene: imagine you’re having a really good day. You just got a “job well done” from your boss, you did laundry and you’re wearing your favorite clothes, the shirt that matches your eyes, the beat up shorts that you’ve worn in just right. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and you’re walking around the block just because you can. Suddenly a car pulls up and four men are inside. They look you up and down in a way that makes you feel less like a human being and more like a piece of meat behind the glass in a butchery. You look straight ahead, chin raised and avoid eye contact, unsmiling, in order to minimize contact. Your chest is tight.

“You’re sexy baby,” one of them calls out lasciviously, less a compliment than a declaration of dominance. You don’t respond and keep on walking, head high, and hope they keep driving, but instead the car creeps beside you for long minutes, they are hoping to illicit a reaction. Your heart is racing and you hope more than anything that they’ll just keep on driving. Eventually, when they realize you aren’t going to respond, they drive off and scream, “Whatever BITCH,” at you as they screech away. Heart still pounding, you continue on your way, looking over your shoulder and hoping they won’t return for another round.

Will I get harassed today?

Welcome to my world.

Here’s the reality of being a woman in the current age: every day when I get dressed, I have to consider the implications of my outfit and the feedback it will receive from men on the street. Going out on the weekend becomes an internal struggle between my desire to wear the clothes that highlight the things I like about myself and the desire to preemptively stop the unwanted catcalls made by drunk strangers, who often become aggressive and combative when I deign to point out how unwelcome their comments are.

Strange men have solicited me for sex; I’ve been called a bitch and told to f*** off by strange men. I’ve gotten marriage proposals and heard “damn girl” and “beautiful” and been beeped at and stared at and screamed at and I didn’t ask for any of it. It doesn’t matter if it’s a compliment or an insult, polite or rude as hell – I don’t want it, and I’m sick of keeping my mouth shut because society has tried to program me into thinking I should feel grateful for the attention of all men, as if their admiration of my body is some sort of gift that I should cherish.

Let’s pursue the concept of mutual respect, shall we?

As in, I will continue not to comment on your body parts as though they exist for my personal pleasure, and that simple gesture of respect will be returned.

– Glorious BE

Location: Boston, MA

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I was waiting on a bus stop in the morning, on my way to work. There was one man sitting at the other end of the bench. After a couple of minutes, he leans over to me and mumbles something. I thought he might be asking, “Do you know what time it is” or “Has the number 20 bus gone by yet,” so I said, “Excuse me?” and he repeated his earlier remark, “My nuts is sweating,” with a leering smile.

On another occasion, I was walking down the same street, in the middle of the afternoon, drinking from a straw. A middle-aged man going the other way down the sidewalk says to me as he passes, “Man, I wish I was that straw.”

Then there was the time I was driving to Tulsa, Oklahoma, with a female friend. As we’re going down the highway (rural area, so there were very few cars), another car pulls alongside us and starts keeping pace with our car. We look over to see the male driver vigorously masturbating while glancing over to make sure we see what he’s doing. We try speeding up, slowing down, but he continues to adjust his speed (of his car, not his hand) to remain next to our car. Again, rural highway, hardly any other cars around and no nearby exits; this was also in the days before cell phones, so calling 911 wasn’t an option.

There have been plenty more instances, but you get the idea.

– Anonymous

Location: The bus stop incident was in St. Louis, Missouri on Delmar Blvd. at the intersection of DeBaliviere. The straw incident also occurred on Delmar, just west of Skinker.

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My friend and I were walking to her house at around 3 a.m. and some guy came up behind us, lifted our dresses up and grabbed our butts. We both turned around and started yelling and screaming at the guy, but he was already half way down the block. I yelled vulgar things and started to run after him and wanted to call the police but my friend told me to stop and not to call the police because she didn’t want to get stabbed (I don’t know why).

I was very angered and did not want the guy to get away because I wanted something be done about this because this is not ok but my friend didn’t want to so I let it go.

– Anonymous

Location: 610-624 Mason St, San Francisco, CA

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I was walking home on the left side of a busy street one night. It was about 10:30 or 11 p.m. on a Friday, so not that late. I was wearing a jacket, jeans, and some cute shoes, but nothing that I would consider to be all that sexy. A man in a nice SUV was driving on the street going the same direction as me. He honked at me and startled me, and when I didn’t respond to him, he turned around in the middle of the road so he could drive up beside me (I was on the sidewalk with about 3 feet of grass between me and the curb).

He asked if he could take me out sometime, as if I were a call girl. I politely said, “No, thank you,” but he persisted. I again said I was flattered but not interested, and I walked away.

I never felt unsafe, but I felt really uncomfortable.

I am really baffled by his behavior. We had never met – he knew nothing about me, nor I anything about him, so why would I agree to go out with him? Why would he persist after I said no? It just seemed really creepy and inappropriate, even though he was polite about it. I tried to be polite to him because I worried that if I was rude (deservedly) or told him off, things might escalate, even though it was a busy street. I should have said something more to him to indicate that what he did was not cool and that he should not try this on other women.

Sadly, I think there will always be men who believe that they have a right to treat other people (usually women) this way.

– Anonymous

Location: 16th St NW, on the border of the Mount Pleasant/Columbia Heights neighborhood, Washington, DC

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