Corina Thorose, Melbourne, Australia, SSH Blog Correspondent
The first time I got a proper look at bona fide sexual harassment, I was about fifteen years old. Out with a group of friends, we had somehow gotten into a club, where we were enjoying being grown ups in our finest heels, skirts and halter tops. We looked like smouldering adults, but we were careful never to cross the line into Trashy.
Which is more than we could say for That Girl.
She was in a boob tube and a micro-miniskirt. Her eyes were heavily painted, and she had sex-me boots on. She was Trashy. She was Asking For It.
We observed her as our evening went on. She was groped by several guys, and she was getting angry with all of them, yelling at them all and even aggressively shoving a few of them away. We shook our heads and tsked, wondering why she was dressed like that if she wasn’t interested in men touching her. Didn’t she know clothes like that Invited Certain Attention?
It wasn’t until later in life when the groping started happening to me that I started to reassess things. I was not doing anything to Provoke it. There was no discernible pattern – it was occurring when I was drunk, sober, with friends, alone, in jeans, in a skirt, daytime, nighttime, in heels, in flats. I had become That Girl – and I had no idea how.
The answer has come to me over a lifetime of fighting these cretins off. I took the question to some of my girlfriends, and yes, even a male friend, and they were kind enough to share their own experiences of being That Girl.
Jane
“I was in Argentina with a girlfriend, and we were catching the train into the city. The carriage was packed, so we had to stand up, and the guy behind me was standing way too close to me. He was holding a briefcase and he slowly put it under my skirt and was started pushing it up. At first I thought it was an accident so just I stepped away from him, but he stepped close again and kept doing it. I pushed him away but that didn’t stop him either so I looked him straight in the eye and told him to fuck off, but that didn’t work either. In the end, I was so upset that my friend and I just got off at the next stop to get away from him. She flipped him off and yelled ‘Fuck you!’ at him, but he was totally unfazed by it.”
Kate
“I was on my way to work, so it would have been about 8:30am. I got off the train and Parliament station and a guy on the carriage got off behind me. I didn’t think anything of it until it became clear that he was following me. I kept looking back at him, making it clear that I knew he was there, but he didn’t seem to care, he just kept staring at me really intensely. He followed me all the way to the office and into the building. When I got in the elevator he followed me in and I pushed him out as hard as I could. The doors closed and I got up to our floor safely, but he waited for me in the foyer all morning. I told my boss and we called the police and they moved him on, but as he hadn’t done anything to me, there was nothing they could charge him with. He came back and waited for me again a few times, but I always gave him the slip. He gave up eventually, but I still look for him everywhere I go.”
Natalie
“I was working at a festival, and I was in charge of the set up and shut down of our stall. At the end when I was packing up, I knelt down to pick up some of our equipment and an old man who was sitting next to me says, ‘That’s what I like, a woman on her knees.’ I was so shocked I couldn’t even respond. You’d think someone of his generation would be a little classier!”
Tess
“I’m a big chested woman, and I cannot walk down the street without being gawked at. It’s not like when someone checks you out and you feel a bit chuffed about it, it’s outright staring, enough to make me really uncomfortable. One time I was out with some girlfriends and I had a pash with this guy who seemed really nice. He asked for my number and I gave it to him, and the first thing he did was text me a picture of his dick and then ask for a picture of my breasts.”
Jules
“I was eighteen and at a nightclub. This guy asked if he could have a kiss and I said no. When he asked why not, I said I had a boyfriend. He said no one would ever know and he’d make it worth my while. I was too young to know what to say or how to deal with it, so I just thanked him politely and walked away. I was really mad though, why did he feel so entitled to me?”
Hayley
“I was at the casino with a big group of friends, but I went off to go to the bathroom. When I walked in, I thought it was empty, but there was a man in one of the cubicles and he jumped out and grabbed me. I started screaming and fought him off, but I was drunk and lost my balance. He scratched up my neck really badly but luckily security got there and he ran off.”
Tom
“I was on a plane flying to Adelaide and one of the stewards was flirting with me. I thought he was cute, but I wasn’t really interested, so I was relieved when he didn’t ask for my number. He must have checked the flight registry though, because he got my last name and looked me up on Facebook! What a violation of my privacy.”
Erin
“I tried online dating and this guy who seemed perfectly nice at first told me he was going to bed to masturbate over me.”
Olivia
“I was a first time mum and I was walking my baby in her pram down the street. A boy of about sixteen rode past on his bicycle and pinched my bum. I punched him in the back and chased him down the street yelling at him.”
Jen
“My friend and I were travelling and we’d just gotten to Ottawa. We’d been out clubbing one night and on our way home stopped by the McDonald’s. We walked through the drive through but the sensor didn’t know we were there, so we waved at the car behind us to come up. It turned out to be a carful of young guys who thought, I dunno, that we were summoning them for sex. When they pulled up next to us they started saying the most revolting things, calling us cunts and telling us to suck their dicks.”
Sarah
“My girlfriend and I were trying to flag a cab down. A random car drove past and yelled ‘Sluts!’ out the window.”
Rebecca
“It was early in the morning, about 6:00 I think. I was on my way to the gym before work but on the way there, this car stopped beside me and the guy said something to me, but I just ignored him. He got out of the car and started following me. He was being really aggressive so I started to run. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm and I started screaming, but because it was so early, there was no one around. He kept telling me to shut up but I kept screaming and finally this couple turned up and started yelling at him. He got back in his car and drove off, but before he did he looked at me and said, “I’m going to remember your face.’ Thankfully, I’ve never seen him again.”
After speaking to my friends, I came to a conclusion I should have that day when I was fifteen. It doesn’t matter what you wear, where you are, or how much you’ve had to drink. We can all, at any time, be That Girl. Our bodies belong to us, and no one is entitled to objectify or touch them without our consent. Period.
I don’t mind being That Girl. What I can’t stand is That Guy.
That Guy is the one who won’t look away, who invades your personal space, or yells something out the window of his car as he drives past. That Guy is the reason I walk home from work with my keys in my fist and my phone in my hand instead of my bag. That Guy is the reason I go to the bathroom in groups, and why I don’t go jogging at night. That Guy has sent me home in tears many times, feeling ashamed of what I am wearing and making me believe that I am Asking For It.
Don’t be That Guy.
#YesAllWomen.
Corina is a journalist who is currently in a Masters’ program in Professional Writing. Follow her work on social media: @BrandosBride, www.facebook.com/theirownbells, instagram.com/theirownbells
