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I had gone with my girlfriends to rainey street in austin and I was waiting outside the club in line talking minding my own business, when behind me I hear screaming of someone saying OH MY GOD this ass !!! this is perfection its the perfect ass, you are beautiful girl. I was not aware this yelling was directed to me until I felt a hard slap on my ass it hurt so bad that I turned around so angry, the guy saw I was not happy and just said ” Sorry I had to” and left.
Let me point out that even if I was wearing a short skirt or dress this is not ok, but I wasn’t I was wearing pants and a long shirt. Who thinks it’s alright to slap someone ? cuz you “had to ” ?? really ?
The same night, I was followed down the street on the way to the metro by men calling after me. One of the men followed me and proceeded to try and “buy” me as if I were a prostitute. He said he had a beautiful room, comfortable bed, until another person grabbed me and said “no” (which I am still confused about). But after I tore away (as I am used to being grabbed), the fruit stand guy grabbed the guy who had been following me and stopped him. I will never forget him: someone finally helped.
Later that night, I went out clubbing and took a taxi home with friends because I was drunk. The taxi driver told me to stay in to pay, which my friend had already paid, and my drunk friends left, which is when he took advantage of my state. Sadly, this isn’t near the first time. I am tired of being raped, sexually assaulted, groped, stalked, etc. It needs to end, and people need to step up. Unfortunately, women often can’t speak out for fear of more violence. This is a moment where men can stop up and help women who are continually being victimized.
I can’t remember the street because I was a tourist and it was 29 years ago, but it was the most blatant I’ve experienced of street harassment short of back ally.
I was six months and obviously pregnant. There was no mistaking it. I waddled. I was wearing a maternity sailors dress to my midcalf.I was not in anyway in a “come hither” fashion so any detractors can tuck that argument away. As I climbed the metro subway stairs to get to the sidewalk it was crowded but one man kept jostling me and I was afraid I would fall. He was very rough and I had to keep gripping the banister. I glanced back over my shoulder and he just looked at me and as we hit the top, he darted around me grabbing a fistful of my ass as he did so. He was gone into the crown before I could even get over my shock and humiliation. I just stood there feeling naked.
Something about being pregnant and alone made you a target for lewd behavior. I was asked to spend the night, things like, “Hey, don’t act so innocent. We know your aren’t.” and told by one guy “At least I can’t get you pregnant.” as he laughed with his friends. A drunk man at a cafe began talking to my belly and rubbing it and tried to kiss it before a Coast Guardsmen pulled him away from me.
Between these and some more personally deep history, people wonder why I believe in certain laws, or give my teen daughter pepper spray.
So recently i moved to Padova Italy to work there for a while. And since i got here i noticed that the amount of catcalling and streetharrasment is much higher than it was in my home town, which is also a big town. It made me feel very unsafe. When i go out of the house i get catcalled almost every 15minutes. And last week a man followed me for at least 10minutes. Iv never been in a situation like this where is so overwelming and so constant. The friends iv made here are experiencing the same, and even worst than me. Today I saw a short documentary about catcalling and street harrasment and it was very inspiring. I usually ignore my harasser’s but talking back seems like an empowering thing to do naturally when a man grabbed my arm on the street not half n hour later all I did was run away and try not to make eyecontact. Baby steps.
For the past 3 months, one man (in his 30’s, wears glasses, pretty non-descript) has verbally assaulted me on 3 separate occasions. Always in the same area and always around the same time (right when I leave my apartment for work).
This morning, the first thing I heard when I left the house was this man yelling “Go the fuck home” as I walked out of my apartment. I decided to confront him and said “Excuse me, what is your problem?” And he said, “You. You yuppie millennial scum are ruining this neighborhood.”
I was astounded because this was someone who was judging me solely because I live in Greenpoint. This person does not know that I am actually a NYC-native, born and raised. It is such an uncomfortable situation for me that I change my morning routine to avoid this person.
I was walking down the street when I heard some guys yelling from a truck. I was used to that, so I didn’t turn around. Then, I felt something hit my butt — they’d thrown a little pack of ice at it. They cheered when they hit their target. For some reason, this made me feel really humiliated and foolish.
Not very recent at all, but still relevant. Once when I was 11 or 12 years old, I was out with my mom when a man came up to me and asked me if I wanted to go out for drinks. The man was probably 40 years older than me. He followed us up the block before giving up. My mother didn’t try to defend me or get rid of the man, nor did she talk to me about it later. Because my mom blamed me and never tried to protect me from bullying in school, I assumed that street harassment was also my fault.
I work in the Financial District of Manhattan, a male dominated environment to say the least. As a female professional in this area, I am dressed in business attire daily, and I am frequently the recipient of verbal commentary and gestures on my walks to and from work, as well as on my walks to and from picking up lunch. Today on my walk back to the office from lunch, a man walking with a co-worker turned around as I walked by and yelled “Hey, how are you gorgeous?” and of course, I kept my head down and kept walking. To my utter disbelief, I then heard his friend say to him, “Come on man, have you see that video with the girl getting cat-called? You’re not helping our case.”
As feelings of satisfaction and purpose and joy overwhelmed me, I felt I had to share here to make it known that you are TRULY making an impact. Even if it remains this small–and it won’t–it was remarkable to hear this man calling his friend out for the unsolicited “compliment,” and it’s all because of this movement. THANK YOU for what you are doing, and thank you for spreading the message in a big way.
I was riding the A train downtown around 9AM on my way to work, holding onto the metal bar which situated me directly in front of 3 sitting individuals. Specifically, my body was facing was an older man who was sitting reading a newspaper. When we arrived to our first subway stop, I felt what I thought was the outside of his fist- very lightly- run up the inside of my thigh. I remember thinking “was that what I thought it was?” and looked down find him still inconspicuously reading his newspaper. I quickly dismissed attributed it to the corner of his newspaper. Either way, these things can accidentally happen on busy subways in close quarters. The next stop was Fulton Street. Before I could move out his way, he stood up and as he did he ran his fingers all the way up the inside of thigh. At that moment, I knew the first incident wasn’t his newspaper– it was intentional. I remember thinking “okay, that was a little close for comfort” and watched him step off the subway car ahead of me. I walked up the stairs and jumped on the up escalator. The escalator was so packed that morning leaving no left hand walking lane. So I stood still the whole way up. Just as I am about to reach the top I felt something on the inside of my thigh run all the way up to my butt cheek. It took me a second to register that it was a HAND! I turn around to find the SAME disgusting man from the subway!!! I probably flew about 3 steps forward before turning around and giving him the death stare. I wanted to scream & humiliate him for what he did.. but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. So instead, I RAN as fast as I could. That morning was extremely traumatizing. I was scared to ride the subway for weeks, especially during rush hour, and I became paranoid that I would see him again on my morning commute. It’s taking me a little time, but I have become so incredibly self aware because of this. Word of Advice to ladies in NYC: when the subways are busy, always check your surroundings (in the front and the back of you). People will take advantage of the close quarters whether its touching you, taking camera pics under your dress or skirt, or just plain standing too close for comfort. Always be cognizant of what’s happening around you on the streets and the subways. Most importantly, if something like this happens to you, MAKE A SCENE- SCREAM, YELL anything you can do to bring attention to yourself. Don’t let the person get away with it. Every so often I cave with the catcalls and lash out at the guilty person. Sometimes, I get attitude back and other times laughter, but most of the time the dudes are silenced & dumbfounded by response. “Yes- I talk. I am a human being not an object.” I can’t find the strength to respond every time, but when I do.. it’s an incredibly satisfying feeling.
While running early one morning in Barcelona I realized I ran by a massage place that offered for 1 hour at 25 euros. I thought it was a great deal, but it wasn’t open so I decided to take a picture of the opening hours and name. While taking a photo a man with a shopping cart passed me from behind and slapped my right butt cheek with his hand. I was fuming, but I didn’t say anything. He was laughing sinister like, and I just prayed for God to bring justice to him one day.