Most women experience sexual harassment in public spaces as frequently as they step foot outside their homes. I am not excluding men from this experience, but it does happen at a disproportionate rate more regularly to women than men. There are many sociocultural reasons for this and I understand that expressions of masculinity and power are unknown to the one exposing their power through cat calling and other practices that are demeaning to women and other members of society. The normalization of these actions are a huge distraction towards engineering social change, gender equality and respect. 

As little girls, we are told that this will happen. To turn your head and ignore it. Sometimes humour the oppresor, sometimes give them a little smile just to shut them up. I wonder if men know that most women were taught to defend themselves in this situations by calmly carrying on with a walk and internalized fear. 

Today, as I was walking towards a jewelry shop in an outdoor shopping center (all locally owned business, no chain nothings). This area in particular is very pedestrian friendly, tons of people gather around, outdoor performances occur on the daily, poems flow from mouth to mouth effortlessly and its a place that brings a lot of fond memories of the past years living in Atlanta. I am wearing nothing out of the ‘ordinary’, a big jacket cause I ride a scooter and it’s winter (Note: Even if I were wearing anything that reveals a lot of skin I should not be subjected to street harassment. My body is mine and no one should disrespect it). A man looks me up and down, I feel as though his eyes are glancing my body through the clothes and I felt disgusting, powerless, pissed the fuck off but I couldn’t speak up and tell him to shut up. “You’re so sexy” he said very audibly and proudly. Why didn’t I say fuck off? Why did I feel so scared even after all the other times that I’ve expressed opposition to street harassment? I couldn’t get myself to say anything to him. 

I realized that I felt very alone in that moment even though there were many people walking around me, some in the same direction as me. So why did I feel so desperately alone? 

I came home and wrote an e-mail to my boyfriend an somehow felt more comfort knowing that he will know what just happened to me. As though, the key to my loneliness and discomfort laid on sharing this information with my boyfriend because I know that he would defend me in any situation. But I need to understand that I can’t, and in the past I haven’t, relied on this comfort because all I am doing is becoming a victim that does not act against this abuse in order to change these reactions. I reacted so weakly, but I believe that next time I might just say a big, “shut your mouth!” and move on. Maybe it’ll be frightening the first time, but just like some people get a hang of performing street harassment, maybe I’ll get the hang of standing up against them. 

This is something that I must do.

Have you ever had a daughter? A mother? A lover? A woman you loved entirely too much to let her be touched by a rose petal? Have you ever wanted her to be used as an object to prove masculinity? Have you ever wished discomfort upon them? Have you ever seen those women’s faces on my face? My body as a reflection of theirs? Stay back, show respect because I am the same as your daughter, mother, niece, wife, lover.