Yesterday I was walking around Bed, Bath, and Beyond to look at things for the house my boyfriend and I are going to move into in a week – I just relocated after a stressful year of being hundreds of miles away from him. I was stopped in the middle of an aisle when I felt something brush my leg – I look down and there was a man crouched behind me. My first reaction was to ignore it as someone who accidentally bumped into me while looking at items on the bottom shelf, but then I realized that it was my inner thigh that had been bumped. All at once the image of his cellphone shot into my head and I realized what had happened – he had been taking a picture or a video of me up my dress.

By this point he was walking away from me quickly and I started walking towards him and I called out loudly and angrily, “Excuse me!” He didn’t even flinch and just kept walking faster.

On the floor next to me an employee was crouched and I told her, “I think that man just took a picture up my dress!” She looked alarmed and went to the front of the store, where she picked up a phone.

I stood in place for a moment, and the shock set in. A million questions went through my head, the most important one being, “What do I do now?” My first instinct was to call my boyfriend, but I decided to walk up to the front to see what was going on. I assumed that someone was calling security.

I will stop my story to say that I realize now this moment is what caused the majority of my pain. I needed to call 911 right then, not rely on someone else to do it for me. But I didn’t.

A few minutes passed of the employees up front looking at me woefully and some skeptically. Then the woman who had seen him rush away from me pointed him out – “That’s the guy. That’s the guy, isn’t it? He’s going out the entrance.”

It was the guy, and I got a better look at him now. He was tall and older, about 60, with light brown skin and a long, ugly, cold face. He made a point of not making eye contact with anyone and walked straight out of the door.

I felt my panic increase – he was getting away! No one was doing anything! -I- wasn’t doing anything!

I just shook and tried not to cry. At some point, a manager approached me. What he said to me is a slur of “we can’t help you.” He was nice, but not in any way helpful. I prodded at them for a while because I felt like something needed to happen, but nothing did.
I walked a few paces away from them, outside of the store, and sat down to call my boyfriend.

“Something really creepy just happened to me.”

A day later, I feel angry at myself for not acting, and angry at the people around me for not acting. I feel disgusted with that man’s very existence, I can’t believe that someone is possibly currently getting off on my humiliation, and has a relic to remember it by. I eventually called the police, but have little hope that they will be able to do anything. All they have is a tape. I realize, too, that all he has is a tape. I am thankful that he didn’t physically assault me. But what he did was painful – he made me feel duped, he made me feel powerless, he made me feel disgusting and made my vagina feel disgusting.

I don’t really know what to do now. I guess I just get on with my life an accept that it was not that big of a deal, but I feel so hopeless.

– Anonymous

Location: Bed, Bath, & Beyond in Charlottesville, VA

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Like many of the women who have shared their stories, I am a runner. Last February, I was out for a run in the middle of the afternoon, bundled up against the cold. As I waited to cross a busy street, I noticed a man sitting in his car at the stop sign opposite me, staring. He didn’t turn when he had the opportunity to turn. Instead he waited. When I crossed the street, running towards him, I noticed his window was down despite the cold. As I ran past, he yelled something, but I couldn’t quite make it out and felt it was best to keep going.

Five minutes later, his car showed up behind me, window down. This time, I heard him. “Do you want to make some money fast?” Given his expression, this could only mean one thing: sex for money. I said no and kept running, stopping briefly to try to get his license plate.

I called campus security when I got home, which eventually led to a police investigation and a court trial (acquitted).

I was angry that this man had made me feel unsafe doing something I loved, and upset that I was unable to muster a more vindicating response. Perhaps most surprising of all was the reaction of my boyfriend at the time. Because he didn’t see the situation as presenting any real potential for danger (middle of the afternoon, residential area), he didn’t understand why it had upset me so much. This, coming from an educated, warm, generally understanding man. It made me fear that the disconnect between men’s actions and their effect on women may be greater than I had ever realized.

-Anonymous

Location: College town in western Virginia