1:05pm. I left my workplace for lunch and had not yet taken twenty steps before I spotted him, a 20-something man in a navy blue sweatshirt seated on a ledge with two friends. After being harassed for upwards of a decade (my entire teen and adult life), I can generally tell when it’s coming. But I determinedly squared my shoulders, looked ahead to my destination, and strode past him without changing my stride.

Sure enough: “You with the glasses – what’s *your* name?” It wasn’t a friendly question. He looked me up and down, leering.

I normally just keep walking when I’m harassed. I normally pretend to be deaf and blind, just to stay out of trouble. Just to stay safe, even if it’s the middle of the day on a crowded street.

This time, though, I was furious. I whirled around and snapped at him, “Why the hell are you talking to me, asshole?” then continued on my way. All I wanted was my damn lunch. Was it so much to ask to walk a couple of blocks and not have some random man turn me into a sex object? Was it so much to ask to use the public sidewalk without being treated like public property?

The guy whined behind me. “What did I do to you?”

I kept walking. After I’d gone another block, though, I noticed someone yelling in the background. The man and his three friends were following me at a slight distance. “BITCH!” I heard them yelling. I pulled out my phone, and heard “BITCH, TALKING ON THE PHONE!” I turned around and hollered at the top of my lungs, “YOU BETTER NOT BE FOLLOWING ME!” and kept walking. People stared at the men, but no one intervened. They kept following.

I turned a corner. They kept following. I had now crossed four blocks. Realizing that they might persist and might get actually violent, I dialed 911 and ducked into the busiest restaurant I could find. The officer who responded to my call kindly drove me back to work. The men had vanished after I went inside the restaurant, but we didn’t know where they had gone. I spent the rest of the work day furious and shaken. I called for a ride home but my partner was delayed at work. Ultimately I had to take the bus, which meant braving another area filled with leering men. This time I took the bus home without incident, but there had been incidents before and I was wary.

I am always wary. Always watching out for who might be a threat and who might be available to call upon for help. I cross the street to avoid men sitting on benches, because two-thirds of the time when I pass an idle man, he has something insightful and original to say about my ass or what he’d like to do to me. I feel like I live under a curse, a constant threat. And this is one of the safest, most liberal cities in the U.S. I shouldn’t feel like hunted game in my own hometown.

– Anonymous

Location: E. Liberty Street and S. Division, Ann Arbor, MI

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Today I received a powerful email from a regular Stop Street Harassment reader and she agreed to let me post it: