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When it comes to street harassment, you are not alone.
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take street harassment seriously and create solutions that make everyone feel safe.
The stories below are recent encounters with street harassment from around the world. Click the “I’ve Got Your Back” button under each one to anonymously show your support.
Heather’s Story: “Thank god for tampons”
I’m a server, at a small family owned restaurant. I love it, but the hours are so crazy sometimes. I typically get out after midnight. This night in particular I had to stop by Kroger on the way home to grab some tampons and groceries. No big deal. But as I was walking down the bread isle, some guy crosses my path and doubles back. He’s around my age. Frat guy looking. And I’m thinking “okay here we go.” So he keeps pace behind me. Doesn’t say anything. So I’m like “well maybe he’s forgotten something ahead and I’m being paranoid.” No. He follows me down several isles. He pretends to look at things as I continue to shop. He hasn’t even picked anything up. He doesn’t have a cart or a basket. So I start to get weirded out. Then I guess he musters up the courage to talk to me, so he says “having a good night, darlin?” And it’s so freaking creepy. He’s not even making eye contact with me, just staring at my body like I’m meat on the grill. So I’m like “I was, creep.” And I turn and walk away. This I guess, pisses him off. So he follows me in a huff and I can hear him muttering to him self “bitch” so I decide, ‘you know, I really need a giant box of tampons and pads.’ So I turn down the feminine hygiene isle. I guess he realizes where he is, and is disgusted, so he turns around and leaves. I made sure I had a manager walk me to my car. Thank god for tampons.
Published on August 19, 2015 at 8:23 pm
no commentsCaitlin’s Story: “Creeper”
I’m just sitting at a red light, first car in line, minding my own business. This runner stops across the intersection from me and locks eyes with me and starts staring me down. He puts his hand in his shorts and starts masturbating, never breaking eye contact. So I took a picture, because at the very least, I have proof. But when I did that, he slowly took his hand out of his pants, raises his hands over his head, beamed from ear to ear, let out a delighted whoop, and ran off in the opposite direction. Creeper.
Published on August 11, 2015 at 5:21 am
one commentJordan’s Story: Struggling between holla-ing back and feeling safe
Today I was walking with my friend trying to get to the subway when a male passed me and told me I shouldn’t look so angry anymore. I was annoyed by the comment but let it go and put some distance between us. Sadly him and his group of friends stopped and I had to pass them again. I guess one of his friends made a comment about me and the original male said aloud that “I just told her about herself”. I know I shouldn’t have but I snapped and told him to f*** himself. Something about him thinking I needed to listen to a stranger on the street really got to me. I regretted saying anything tho because as I made my way to the train I got scared that he was following me and that him and his friend would try and hurt my friend and me. I hate that I let him gain power over me. I feel like he won.
Published on August 10, 2015 at 5:23 am
no commentsMiriam’s Story: “I hid so he wouldn’t be able to tell where I live…”
I am an avid yogi and I work hard to make it to yoga class every day with my busy schedule. I was so excited when I moved into the city within walking distance from my yoga studio. I usually walk the 5 minutes to class then walk home when it’s over, still in my yoga clothes. Apparently me wearing yoga pants is an invitation for men to comment on my most blessed attributes. Two days ago I was walking home from class when about 3 blocks from my house a white car drove up next to me, rolled down the side window and said “damn girl look at that ass”. I ignored them as I always do… the car drove down the block, turned around at the round about and rolled past me again, “ASS all day!”. He did this turn around/drive-by and yell thing about 6 times before I ended up running the last block home. I hid in the alley behind my house so that he wouldn’t be able to tell where I live and I cried. I now drive the 7 blocks to my yoga studio everyday out of fear that the same man or someone else might take it even further than that.
Published on August 7, 2015 at 12:10 am
no commentsSamarra’s Story: Followed on the way to the park
I was walking down a main road in my town to go to a local park. About 100 yards ahead of me sat a man on a bench. At this distance, he looked straight at me and then quickly stood up and crossed the street. I noticed his abrupt movement and thought it was a little odd, but didn’t think that much of it. I kept walking. After another five minutes or so of walking down that same street, I looked over and there was the same man, still across the street, walking in the same direction parallel to me. I tried to calm my paranoia and figured, “Maybe he’s going to the park too” or to some other nearby location. As we both kept walking, however, I noticed that he would frequently look over at me from across the street and made sure to walk at the exact same pace that I was walking. When I slowed down, he slowed down. When I sped up, he sped up. At this point, we were in a very residential part of town where there were no businesses or public places, only houses, and I was getting scared. We were the only two people on the street. Finally we passed by a church. I decided to try an experiment to see if he really was following me: in front of the church, I stopped dead in my tracks and took out my cell phone. I figured the man would keep walking without regard for my direction, and I would feel silly. To my horror, he stopped when I stopped, and turned to look at me, as if he was waiting for me to keep moving so he could continue to follow me. At this point I made direct eye contact with him from across the street, put on a serious face, and pretended to make a phone call (it could have been to 911 or the police or whatever; the point was just to let him know that I knew he was following me and I was calling someone to report it). At this point, the man turned around down a random side street and stopped following me.
It was another seven minutes of walking to the park, and I was turning around to look over my shoulder the entire time.
Published on August 4, 2015 at 7:42 pm
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