I have been wanting to write a blog post about this forever. Well not forever, but for seven months now (that’s basically forever in my books). However, I know this post isn’t going to be taken well by some and that is a huge part of the problem that I’m about to discuss. But, this is my blog and this is where I share my thoughts and if I’m not personal on here every once in a while, then is this really a blog? Nonetheless, I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on what I have to say and I welcome any disagreement, so be sure to leave a comment down below!
I have never really considered myself one of those stereotypical feminists. And yes, everyone knows how much hate feminists get. They’re the girls who think it’s demeaning for guys to open doors for them and get mad at every ounce of inequality between genders. And if you’re one of those, that’s totally fine. Everyone deserves to have their opinions and I have mine. But this isn’t what this post is about.
I was sitting in my SMO405 class and we were discussing sexual harassment in the workplace and it got me to thinking of an incident that still bothers me to this day. I actually wrote half of this post in class so if it feels a little bit jumbled and not totally polished, that is why.
So seven months ago, the day after I finished my last final of my third year of university, I decided to take a day for myself and go downtown. I had been studying for three weeks straight from 6am to 10pm at night and I just really needed a mental health day as my friend, Emily once called them. I planned to ride the train down there, go shopping, go to the library, have a nice lunch, just spend a day focusing on me. I just wanted to be by myself for a day and enjoy my own company. Nothing has ever sounded better.
It all started out well. And no this story isn’t going to get dramatic so don’t get your hopes up. But I was standing in line at Jugo Juice (planning to get the Watermelon Wiggle smoothie because it’s literal heaven) at the mall (City Centre in downtown Edmonton if anyone is curious, I need to set the scene) and a guy approached me.
And before we even start this story off, let’s take a moment to discuss my thoughts when I was getting ready that morning. I wore sneakers, a hoodie and a baseball cap. And it wasn’t even like a cute, trendy hoodie, it was a baggy grey hoodie. I was as covered up as I could possibly be. I purposely dressed down as much as possible to not attract any unwanted attention. I remember even sending a picture to my boyfriend at the time asking if I looked intimidating enough that I would be able to walk around downtown alone. If that isn’t foreshadowing, I don’t know what is. And the fact that I even thought to do so should tell you a little bit about the world we live in. Side note: I am not at all saying that women get raped because they are dressed provocatively. I am hugely against this notion. I was dressing down in neutral, dark colours in a way to not stand out as much. To me, wearing a hat blocks out half of my face and I don’t have to make eye contact with people, which greatly diminishes the chance of someone talking to me. It’s the same reason why I wear earphones to and from school. But this story just goes to show that it really doesn’t matter what a girl is wearing. Clothing (or lack thereof) should never be a reason for a man to act disrespectfully in any way.
Back to the story.
At first this guy was normal, asking me if I had any recommendations on what smoothie he should get. I told him my favourites and then tried to order mine. After all, I had a full day of shopping to do, I needed to get a move on. However, he insisted on ordering my smoothie for me (not even ordering the one I wanted, he decided I should get the kale one WTF). After not listening to my insistence on buying my own smoothie, he started joking that I owed him a date now. I turned him down politely saying I had a boyfriend. Usually that comment deters guys… usually. That’s why it is my go-to line when someone hits on me regardless if it’s the truth or not. Because unfortunately, if you say anything other than that, they just don’t take no for an answer. Women tend to use these coded terms instead of just saying “No, I am not interested.” because 1) it often fails to get them to stop and 2) it can alsosometimes spark a violent outburst. For some reason, guys usually think they can persuade you. News flash to those guys: you can’t. If a girl says no (or any form of no), that really is what she means. She’s not playing hard to get. Please watch this video to better sum up my point. However, saying that I was in a relationship had absolutely no effect on this guy. He promptly responded that he had a girlfriend anyways (but yet that didn’t stop any of the following events from happening, poor girl). The conversation should have ended at that. It didn’t.
Another side note: I am not at all saying that every man is like this one. I know so many people that are completely wonderful guys and that they would never disrespect anyone like this. However, I have been in this situation enough to know that this also isn’t just a one-off occurrence.
For the next hour and a half, he followed me around the mall. Every single store I went into, he followed. Every twenty or so minutes, he kept asking me to bus home with him. I kept telling him no, I wasn’t interested. That’s all I should have needed to say to make him leave me alone. He kept missing all of his busses because I was refusing to join him. Finally after an hour of ignoring him and very limited conversation from me, he finally figured out that I really did mean no and I wasn’t going to go home with him, he left in a huff. (Well not a huff per se, after all it did take him a full 90 minutes to leave).
Okay, so nothing happened. I was not verbally, physically or sexually harassed. All good right? No. After the guy finally left, I was so shaken up. I had just walked around a mall followed by a man for an hour and a half and although nothing happened, I was absolutely terrified for that full hour and a half. I tried to go on with my day afterwards, but that day just wasn’t the same anymore. What should have been a fun day filled with all of my favourite things and some much needed relaxation time, all i got was a big knot of stress in stomach. And what made it even worse was the fact that I couldn’t even spend a day by myself without getting into an uncomfortable situation. How was I ever going to be able to live in New York alone if I couldn’t even handle a sunny afternoon in quiet downtown Edmonton? Frustrated, I soon left to go home and called my (ex) boyfriend craving a little bit of comfort.
If one of my girl friends had of called me and told me this situation. I would have immediately blamed the guy. I would have called him a creep and been mad that he didn’t leave her alone. Is that a feminist reaction? I wouldn’t think so. I would have thought that’s the same reaction any person would have had. Unfortunately I learned a lot that day that not all people view this situation the same.
So, I’m on the phone with my boyfriend explaining this situation to him and trying my hardest not to break into tears (I cry very easily, it’s a problem). But, instead of comforting me, he asked me why I didn’t call mall security or the cops. This comment upset me so much but it wasn’t until seven months later that I was able to sort through my thoughts and emotions and finally figure out exactly why. Why was I getting blamed for not doing something?
How was any of this my fault? Even later that night when I told my dad what happened, he just responded that it’s really not safe to go downtown alone and that I should stick to the malls on the south side. Apparently everything that happened was just all my fault.
So why didn’t I call the cops?
Let me ask you this first.
Why didn’t my telling him I wasn’t interested and that I had a boyfriend warrant any kind of reason for him to leave me alone. That’s all I should have needed to say. Ignoring him should have been enough. I shouldn’t have to do anything more than that. I should be able to remain polite and firmly tell a guy that I’m not interested and that should be more than enough to send him on his way. But no, instead he spent the next hour and half trying to convince me, persuade me to go home with him, regardless of my relentless repetition that I wasn’t interested.
Let’s take a quick educational break.
During any form of sexual harassment (I’m not necessarily talking about rape here, I’m talking about more minimized forms), women have three different reactions. The first is an indirect response. Women tend to brush off the harassment by ignoring, evading, joking or minimizing. This is by far the most popular and widely-used. The second two are extremely rare. Direct responses include asking the person to stop, but often, women are very worried about retaliation. The third is a more formal response that includes calling the cops and reporting the situation. This is even more rare. It’s often perceived as escalating it. Women don’t want to make these situations a big deal. It’s how we are conditioned from a young age.
My fear of being more harsh or blunt with this man or if I had of dared to call security is that this man would have become angry or violent. How many times has someone called you a bitch just because you turned them down? (For the males reading this, check out this video to learn exactly why it’s so terrifying). In my experience, remaining polite with this man and avoiding conflict was far less risky than taking a chance and telling him straight up to leave me the fuck alone. It is far easier to be polite and tell him I’m not interested than to threaten to call the police. But don’t think I’m dumb. If this man had of laid one finger on me, I would have immediately called the cops. I was clutching my phone the entire time. But the fact is, I was not in a situation of immediate danger and telling this man I wasn’t interested should have been enough. I deserve respect.
And so, I ask you again,
Why isn’t saying no enough?