Bad Intentions. Good Intentions.

CONTENT/ TRIGGER WARNING: Contains discussion of sexual harassment 

A bit of a twist away from what I usually write about today, and it is something I have never really known how to put into words or known specifically what I wanted to say on the topic. But, the more I think about it the angrier and more frustrated I get. 

I moved out of my parent's house at 18 and landed in Paris- the city of light but also of constant harassment. The first time I experienced this was on the metro- a guy old enough to be my dad started talking to me, asking me really personal questions and eventually for my number. I was so uncomfortable but felt like I could not ask him to leave me alone because in my head I was thinking, if I don't acquiesce, what if he turns violent? He asked for my number- I put my it in, with the last number off. I did not want him having a way to contact me. He called it immediately to make sure I had given him the correct one. No, it wasn't working, can you check it please. I gave a brittle laugh. Oops, the last number is wrong. I corrected the error, he called again to ensure that it was indeed correct. As soon as I got off the metro I called my mum, in tears, asking her how I should deal with a situation like that in the future. This was just one of many times- but a day I decided to go swimming specifically stands out. A random guy started talking to me and I have to say, I love the idea of a spontaneous conversation between strangers and always want to give someone the benefit of the doubt. He too was older, and when I told him I was getting off, he said he would too, and then proceeded to walk me to the swimming pool. He was physically a lot bigger than I was, and I thought, if I tell him to fuck off and leave me alone, I don't know how that's going to go. He too asked for my number and called it in front of me. Okay, I was free to go and swim now. I remember shaking with nerves and wondering what the hell I would do if he was waiting for me when I came out. I was so infuriated that I felt so powerless in these situations. 

Walking at night is something of a past time for me and in Paris I lived behind the Sacre Coeur. One night I decided to go up and look over the city, something I did quite regularly. A man approached me. He was late 40's, early 50's and something about him was majorly off. He started talking to me and I was like yeah, yeah, just nodding along. And then he told me he had a special spot, just over there. In the darkness. Away from all the people. I started walking with him and luckily some kind of survival instinct kicked in. I started shaking my head, said no, thank you and ran in the other direction without looking back, cursing my own stupidity and not the inappropriate nature of a 50 year old man trying to chat up an 18 year old. 

Then I arrived in London to study- a time of copious amounts of drinking and going to clubs. Sober, my friends and I would discuss how uncomfortable it would make us when unsolicited grinders would come up and rub against us in the darkness. Oh well, it was just something you had to put up with. Until enough was enough and we started turning round and asking these guys to please stop, not interested. The most common response to this was a laugh, an eye roll or what's your problem. And usually, they would not back the fuck up. I have a really vivid memory of one of my friends turning around and physically shoving the guy backwards after telling him repeatedly to stop. He was wide-eyed and angry- his advances not getting him anywhere. He thought he was entitled to our bodies- we should just shut up and accept the crotch being gyrated against our lower bodies.

And then there were the men who harassed you in broad daylight from vans or on the street. One day, my friend and I were walking down Mile End Road when a guy started kind of dancing in front of us, stepping from side to side. I thought he was going to try and rob us, instead he reached behind me and groped my butt. I looked him dead in the eye and asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing. To which he replied, oh no, nothing, why are you being so sensitive. Acting like a naughty schoolchild who was just being a bit cheeky. We carried on walking and when we got 100m away, he started shouting at us, things like "You'd be so lucky" blah blah blah. I gave him the finger and carried on walking. That same summer, a man in his late 50's decided to shout something lude at me from his van- I looked at him and again asked what the fuck he thought he was doing and, that I was young enough to be his daughter, he should be ashamed of himself. He immediately looked sheepish and turned his eyes back towards the road. 

More recently, I have been living in Spain and it is HOT. To cool off I go to the local lido. I was there the other day when a guy approached me in the pool. He was in the square opposite me in the sun-bathe area and we got to talking. I was quite happy to because I wanted to practice my Spanish. He told me he was learning reflexology, maybe he could try it on me, at the pool. I kind of laughed and was like yeah, sounds interesting. In my head I as thinking, no, I do not really want you to touch me, a stranger I've known for 2 seconds. Oh, and there are lots of natural lakes near Madrid. We could go, I have a car. I can drive us... I made my excuses and went back to my towel. He came back and I said I was leaving. Oh, he was leaving too- he would accompany me home to which I replied, No, don't worry. 

Well what are you doing tonight... 

I told him- cooking and relaxing

Well, maybe I can come back to yours and cook for you

Mmm, yeah no, maybe not tonight

He asked me to wait for him at the exit- I was hungry and slightly uncomfortable in his presence so I just went home. When I walk in the door I'd already received a message from him- You didn't wait for me... I hope to see you again. I told him my mum called. He replied with a paragraph that prompted me to sit down and right this because this sentence always fills me with rage- Okay, well I just wanted you to know that I'm a friendly and respectful guy. I don't have bad intentions and am only looking for a friendship and to do fun things together.

This is not the first time I have received a message from a guy staking his claim to being 'respectful', 'friendly', 'polite'- please don't mistake my intentions. I call bullshit because if you have to write a message claiming those things, you know that you have made someone feel very, very uncomfortable. 

And while these things may seem trivial, they all add to the wall that I, and many other women I know have put up to protect themselves. I take out one headphone when I enter my building, just in case. I don't go to the park when it's dark, I send my location, I don't go down a deserted street in a neighbourhood that I don't know, even in daylight. I question motives and how I would escape a moving car. I send and save the top 10 self-protection moves every woman should know. 

Always with that thought in the back of my mind- just in case.