The bind we’re in.
I am never sure, when approached by a man on the street, if I should be nice or mean. Either way, it seems, I pay for it.
In the past I have, in some cases, flat-out ignored men who attempted to speak to me. Sometimes this was intentional, sometimes not. This is my version of “being mean” because, I should admit it to you all now, I am a very soft-hearted person. So to intentionally ignore someone pretty much exhausts my capacity for meanness to strangers. When I’ve ignored men on the street I’ve been called a bitch. Or yelled at. One man actually threw something like an adult temper tantrum when I failed to realize that the person saying “HI! HI!” somewhere back by the pharmacy entrance was talking to me, because I have a name, and I tend only to respond to my name.
In other cases, I have been polite, even friendly. I do this for two reasons: for one, I believe that being nice to people is the right thing to do. For another, I am scared of what will happen if I am not nice. For examples, see above. I can only imagine that the consequences become more severe with increasing degrees of impoliteness.
Today, I was approached, asked for the time, talked to, asked about my marital status, asked about my age, told I looked young, and subjected to a lecture on the virtues of larger women, but a specifically, larger women like me, not the gross ones. I was asked my name and my sign of the zodiac. And because he approached me nearly in front of my building, he now knows where I live.
He may have been a perfectly nice man. I have no evidence to believe he is not. I believe he meant everything he said as a compliment, intended it all to be charming and nice, and to maybe make my day better. And I enjoy talking to people, I enjoy encounters with friendly strangers. I really do.
But that doesn’t change the fact that as I walked away from this man, and up the stairs to my apartment, I had to ask myself the following questions: is he going to now appear at my school, as has happened in the past? If I had been mean, what would have happened? Why do people feel it is within their rights to ask me, a stranger, personal questions? Why do people feel it is within their rights to tell me they approve or disapprove of my body? And, lastly, did I make the right choice between politeness and impoliteness? Did I do everything I could to minimize my chances of being raped and dismembered?
This is the bind I’m in. As a woman, there is no question that I will, at some point, be subjected to this kind of treatment — or much worse. And then I will ask myself if I handled it the right way. If it was somehow my fault to begin with. If I should further moderate my already severely restricted public behaviour in order to avoid subsequent incidents.
I would rather know why this has to happen at all. Shit happens, I realize, to everyone. But I feel like I have had more than my share of ‘random’ incidents like these. And they are not complimentary. They are not charming. I smile and laugh and talk with the person in front of me because I feel I have to. That the consequences of not doing so are far worse. And then, when I am done, I feel complicit, and I feel guilty. Just as guilty as I would feel if I’d told him to fuck off and leave me alone, and he’d yelled at me that I was a rotten cunt or slunk away, defeated.
And as your reward or punishment for reading, here is a poem.
“Lucky”
It is often
a surprise
to find myself
housed in this
particular body,
staring down from
this set of eyes.
Can this really be
the life I am
tethered to?
When I was ten
and ugly, I would
grow up to be a
great artist, or
at least have
the pleasure
of scribbling,
and two years later
I can’t keep their
hands off me
in art class,
begging the teacher
with my eyes to
put an end to it
only to have her
eyes reply
“They scare me
too.”
I knew then,
if three seventh
grade boys could
effectively terrorize
an adult woman,
the sort of life I had
to look forward to.
I grew up aware
of my surroundings,
with the second sight
of every female
the unspoken rules
about elevators and
car parks and when to
cross the street,
safety in numbers –
God forbid we should
have a moment of
solitude somewhere
outside ourselves, where
we might begin to get
ideas and formulate
plans of escape –
oh, I grew up lucky,
managed to evade
demands of my name
and unwanted dicks
in my mouth, a fist
or rifle-butt
between my legs,
but aware
of these constant
threats through the
tasteful machinations
of Hollywood,
the risks I ran
by simply being
a hole
in need of filling.
I should be happy
I was intact enough
to sprint sobbing
to any strange house,
pleading with the monster
under my breath,
addressing him Sir and
fully prepared to beg
for my life,
a gift he suddenly
somehow had
the pleasure to grant
or withhold.
But I was spared
and now should
be grateful, glad
when a stranger
on the street
instructs me not
to lick my lips
if I know what’s
good for me, even
if I never licked them,
even if so what
if I did?
I am beside myself
with the good fortune
of my light sentence;
I was never actually
sold into slavery,
only servitude
living on the whim of
countless seventh graders
whose eyes condescend to
grant my existence for
the sole purpose of
their pleasure.
Filed under: femaleness, harassment |
You know, it’s weird. When I turned 40, or maybe even a little before that, all that shit stopped. I mean, just STOPPED. Like, on a dime. I turned 40 and men don’t care if I pay attention to them or not. I am no longer prey. I feel like I’ve been painted with invisible ink. It’s an absolutely bizarre contrast to the almost constant horndog-panting I used to endure almost every time I went out.
And that is a great poem. Dude, I hope you have some pepper spray or something. If not, carry around a cup of a scalding hot drink, until you’re pretty sure the guy is gone. I think if I saw him again I’d roll around on the ground and act crazy and scream “GODDAMN IT THE MOTHERFUCKING SPACESHIP WAS SUPPOSED TO PICK ME UP AT 4:47 WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY??” But then, I’m weird. :-P
Why is it that some men can interact with women in a totally normal fasion and other guys make you think “OHMIGODPLEASELEAVEMEALONEANDDON’TRAPEME”
I was on the train platform the other night and this guy kept saying shit like “Hi” and “How are out” theoretically in my general direction. Except I wasn’t looking at him, I was playing a game on my cell phone, so I couldn’t tell. The guy on the other side of me asked me a question and made some snide comment about the train or the weather. I responded in kind, We laughed, he left me alone.
When we got on the train the creepy guy FOLLOWED ME AND SAT RIGHT NEXT TO ME. (I kinda wish the other guy had too, for defense.) On a totally empty train car. I was still fixated on my phone game specifically to ignore this guy. He kept making attempts until finally he was shouting “Hey! Lady! Lady!” and I put on the face I used to use on my parents when I was being interrupted. And of course he continues to try to engage me in conversation by telling me how beautiful I am, and I tell him that I”m not interested in talking right now. Fortunately he got a phone call and got off the train not long after (though I got to llisten to his angry conversation in an african dialect for several minutes FUN!).
Blech.
All I can say is exactly.
I’ve actually started getting less of that kind of attention since I got fat. It is a fringe benefit.
I love what you say here! “Why do people feel it is within their rights to tell me they approve or disapprove of my body?” I totally agree…why do people think weight is a public issue?! Well, we know why, it’s because it is treated as a public issue in the media and all other places in society. But in my opinion, weight is a private issue! We need to stop commenting on each others bodies like they are up for public auction! Read my blog I just started, I think you’ll see we are on the same wavelength. Happy blogging:-)
I have argued with men about this–I might not respond to what they say and instead ask, “Would you be talking to me, just randomly, if I were a man?” or “If I were a man, you wouldn’t be talking to me. You’d just leave me alone” or “Do you think it’s normal to just tlak to someone you don’t know?” Of course they lie with their answer, but I keep arguing calmly and maybe they learned that some women can be annoying. And maybe don’t do it as much–aversion therapy. And I get to argue my point. Even if they don’t learn, I feel better that I wasted their time (not that that’s some great thing, I realize).
Otherwise, yeah, it’s ignore them or swear at them. It’s one of the worst parts of being female, I hate it so much. There is no good answer.
You know, I hate to even put it this way, but a man would never give thought to such instances. I find myself wondering the same things as you, but I’m just one of those people that make other people comfortable talking to…like their entire life story. I used to consider it a curse, but now I see it as just something that is in me is comforting and good. So, whatevs.
But I think the issue here isn’t that. The issue is that you were uncomfortable but felt obligated to be polite. This is something women deal with daily. In fact this is why women are more often the victim of violent attacks than men. I read somewhere that when asked why they ignored their instincts to run or to do something a lot of women said they were afraid of being impolite. Scary.
Since getting married I have certainly been hit on far less than before. The wedding ring is a great deflector of unwanted male attention. However, I still find myself in those situations occasionally. Once at a Starbucks a man could not keep his eyes out of my cleavage (I admit to having major boobage, but not OUT THERE). I mean his eyes were bugging out of his head and he had this huge grin…he finally tried to talk to me but I just ignored him. He was literally like one or two feet away. I think it is important to not put yourself in uncomfortable positions, but more so to make it clear that you are not comfortable with someone’s attention.
It is an awful thing that we have to even worry abotu possibly being raped or worse, but in a world that is still so stuck in misogyny that is what we’re left with.
I hope you’re able to avoid this person in the future.
I used to get that more as I go older, now that I’ve passed 40, not so much.
When I was very young–late teens, early 20s–I tried to be polite without being friendly and usually extricated myself quickly. Some guys were perfectly pleasant and I enjoyed talking to them. Others I couldn’t get away from fast enough. Particularly those that would try to butter me up by telling me how beautiful I was, then would proposition me.
By my early 20s I got tired of the idiots bothering me and stopped being polite or pleasant to them. I learned to put on a hard “Fuck off” expression when they approached and be verbally abrupt, bordering on hostile/rude. I’m not insulting, but I’m not welcoming either. The idiots usually look bewildered and leave.
That’s terrible. I’ve never gotten that kind of attention - at least, not often. I wonder why. But, I think it’s something I should be grateful for. Maybe it’s because I pay so little attention to the people around me when I’m in public (trained myself to do that at a young age in response to random taunts). Maybe the ipod helps.
Okay, I have a different sort of perspective here. Yes, I’ve had this sort of thing happen most of my life. Yes, it stopped suddenly…but that was when I became visibly a mother. I think that as fat women we get it a bit more, though. And here’s why. Guys who are socially inept…the ones with boundary issues especially…well they’re not getting any. They try and try and get rejected by women all the time. So then comes along a fat woman. She’s kinda pretty and he’s just SURE that she’s a loser too, like him. He’s just sure that she doesn’t have any better options and is going to be so grateful to him for his attention. So he tells her that she’s pretty in spite of her weight. Tells her that he likes a “real woman”…one with “meat on her bones”. Well, we all know what happens when a man is rejected by someone who he feels SHOULD have liked him…he gets mad. And that’s when this gets scary. Because it’s not NICE guys who have this problem. It’s the ones who are a little bit off. Personality disorders and such. I’m not saying that thin women don’t have this issue…they certainly do. But they also have nice normal guys hit on them too. We fat chicks seem to get a disproportionate share of the scary ones.
It’s really sad that women find themselves thinking about these things, while I really, REALLY doubt men have to worry so much. If a random man approaches me, I tend to tense up reflexively. I try not to be rude, but at the same time, my first thought is, “What does this man want with me? What can I do to protect myself if something goes wrong? Where can I go?”
While I know it’s a bit of a generalization, I don’t think men have to worry about the same thing, so they don’t know how awkward, or even frightening, it can be to be approached by a strange man, especially in isolated circumstances. As much as I’d love to give the stranger approaching me the benefit of the doubt, I can’t know, and I can’t assume that I’m safe.
Sorry for being a tad rambly.
I had written this long, drawn-out comment, but I felt bad posting it… so here is a condensed version.
I find it very hard to be mean to people. I can’t hang up on people, slam doors in faces… none of that. At best, I can work it so they get annoyed and go away, but that’s about the extent of my “mean”.
Depending on the sort of day I’m having, I will either play along with the skeevies that can’t take no/”i’m not interested” for an answer, or I will nod at them as they yell after me, and keep walking. I live in a rather urban area, so many of the people who hit on me assume that matching skin color = matching language/dialect… I get my kicks on asking them to repeat themselves. Now that I think about it, I must be damn hot or seemingly easy if people are willing to put up with my “I don’t understand what you are saying, can you repeat yourself?” for 20 minutes. It annoys me to no end that they don’t seem to understand “I’m not interested”/”i have a boyfriend”/other mannerisms that say “zomg you are one skeevy mofo go away!”. Maybe they think persistence will change my mind, who knows.
The only body-related comment I’ve ever gotten (or can remember), was about my bottom lip, from a guy working a portrait kiosk in the mall. He managed to work his hitting-on into a sales pitch.
I’ve noticed that as my weight has changed, I either get hit on more or less. Around a size 12/14(going up and coming down), I got hit on pretty regularly. 14/16 or 9/10, not so much. I’ve also noticed that I get more attention when I am dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweats, than if I am wearing something fitted. My friends say that I’ve taken to carrying a standoffish aura with me when I go out, but I’d like to think that I don’t, I hate noticing those auras on others and wouldn’t like to have one on myself.
Continuing with what NotBlueAtAll said above, it’s really frightening when I hear a woman say she engaged in conversation, tolerated inappropriate commentary, AND answered personal questions even though she didn’t want to, all because some strange man was the one demanding her attention. You have EVERY RIGHT to say, “That’s none of your business. Please leave me alone.” and mean it! If you’ve had problems with strangers knowing where you live, you probably could have walked around the block, or gone to a store.
I strongly recommend that you find a copy of “The Gift of Fear” by Gavin de Becker, and read it, posthaste! It’s an excellent commentary on the way we as women are socialized to placate, to be nice, to acquiesce to men’s demands, and how dangerous that can be. It tells you how to listen to your instincts and that ignoring them puts you at risk. The first story he relates in his book will chill you to the bone. Read it. It could save your life!
I know what it’s like, honestly I do. I’m a freak magnet. As a non-driver, public transportation and walking on the streets of Seattle are my only choices, yet they’re often a minefield of creeps and assholes. I have learned to put on headphones, stick my nose in a book, and I do not engage. The headphones let me ignore someone effectively, on the pretext that I didn’t hear them over the music. Even if you don’t want to listen to music, you could stick earbuds in your ears and put the loose end of the cord in your pocket and *pretend* you’re listening to music.
The other day, I’d forgotten to charge my iPod, so I had naked ears, and sure enough, when I got on the bus, a guy blatantly moved from his seat in the back to the seat directly across from me (nobody else was on the bus), and then he attempted to chat me up. I just … didn’t have the energy to even be cordial. So I looked out the window and didn’t acknowledge that I’d heard him. If he’d tried to push the issue and catch my eye somehow, I was planning to pretend I was deaf, because I just fucking did not want to deal with a stranger right then. My other option is to pretend I don’t speak English; I speak Spanish with an accent, so I could pull that off, although my thoroughly-white-girl appearance could be confusing, but who cares? It’s MY choice whether I want to engage or not, and it’s YOUR choice, too. Don’t give away your choices!
Another great tactic is to just spout gibberish at them.
“Hey, baby, how you doin’? *eyebrow waggle*”
“Assorted colors!”
“Mmm! You look GOOD! You got a man?”
“Seventy-five percent aluminum!”
“Will you go out with me?”
“Chicken. Under. Pants.”
The first two, of course, are said with a wide, slightly insane smile, while that last one has to be said with deadly serious intonation. ;)
I see what you’re saying, and I definitely agree that this inappropriately affects women way more than men, and that courtesy does not include crossing my own personal boundaries in any type of interaction.
My own experience has been a little different, though. I get a lot of attention and this sort of interaction (probably because I tend to make eye contact with most people ho cross my path, generally while smiling), which I think gives a lot of people the impression that I’m interested in chatting or something. Which, honestly, doesn’t bother me. I’m happy to have little conversations with total strangers of all genders, based on whatever circumstances we’re sharing…but when it crosses a line into something I’m not comfortable with, especially if it gets aggressive or weird, I have no problem laying it out and being as direct as need be to clearly establish a boundary. I mean, some total stranger is not my friend, is not a loved one….so if they think I’m rude or bitchy or whatever, I just don’t give a damn. Their opinion means jack to me.
And yes, there’s always the possibility that I’ve landed a crazy who’s plotting to rape and murder me, but if they’re going to go there after I’ve established that I’m willing to stand up for my boundaries, in my estimation they were likely going to do it anyway, and I’ve lost nothing. But so far, the odds have been in my favor, and a polite but firm “Dude, seriously? Not gonna happen. And you should leave me alone now,” has been really effective at convincing creeps to back the hell off.
I think I’m going to go take a self defense class.
/nonsequitor
“I am no longer prey. I feel like I’ve been painted with invisible ink. It’s an absolutely bizarre contrast to the almost constant horndog-panting I used to endure almost every time I went out.”
Meowser, almost that EXACT thing happened to me when I became fat. I endured a near-constant adolescent onslaught of sexual harassment, enough that it literally drove me to the brink of insanity, and then BAM. I was fat. That was the end of it, for a while. Then it started up again. And, weird as this sounds, when all the attention STOPPED, that also felt weird for a while. As much as I’d hated it, I’d almost gotten used to it, and was, at least in a minor way, measuring my worth by it. To suddenly feel ignored was kind of liberating, and kind of rotten too. Nowadays, I want to be left alone. Seriously though, if I were a more composed person, I would totally try to scare people with away the crazies. As it is, I will give you twenty dollars to record yourself doing that and upload it to YouTube :) TWENTY CANADIAN DOLLARS.
Shinobi, I don’t know why some men (well, really, some people in generally because I am at times skeeved out by women too, but more often men) have that quality that makes you want to dive, screaming, into the nearest Dumpster. But some definitely do, no denying it.
It is kind of nice, Becky, but it took some getting used to even though I was convinced I hated all the attention (and I really did.) I think, after a while, you get so used to living in such a pathological culture that you adapt to it as a means of survival. So I adapted…and then I had to re-adapt. I’m glad I re-adapted. Though I would looove to have a chance to adapt to not being treated like a walking sex-toy at all in the first place :)
yep - you’re far braver (and more composed) than I am. I am so BAD at arguing with strangers. But I can argue the shit out of my husband anyday. I really should work on reversing that.
notblueatall, I agree that it’s scary some women are trained to be more worried about politeness than their security. And even more scary that I’m obviously one of those women! I never though I was that polite, because I’m really a gnarly bitch to the people I know and love. But to strangers, I’m polite to a fault. As I said, gotta work on that :)
Geogrrl - I’m going to work on the Fuck off expression. And abruptness.
Dee, it’s because of your engineer’s ring. It’s like brass knuckles. And because you walk so fast! They’re afraid you will knock them over because you mean BUSINESS. And because your accent indicates that you are carrying a concealed firearm.
That’s interesting Ginger. A lot of people think of being fat as being like an automatic asshole filter, but I bet you’re right. Maybe it all evens out in the end? God I hope so.
You’re not rambly at all Lindsay B. But yes, I swear, every time a man approaches me, I think “POTENTIAL RAPE AND DISMEMBERMENT.” No kidding. It’s kind of tiring after a while.
Jess, I can’t hang up on people either. I’ve managed to get to the point where I politely tell people that I don’t answer surveys and then I say goodbye. That’s as good as it gets over here. I don’t like that standoffish aura either, though I have worked to cultivate one as a defense (obviously unsuccessfully, since not only do things like this happen from time to time, but everyone within a five mile radius who is lost and needs directions seems to find their way to me.)
You’re absolutely right, Mom, I mean MsChilePepper :) No, really, I should know better than to allow myself to be infantilized by this. And I’ve heard good things about The Gift of Fear but never read it. Maybe it’s time. Seriously though, I think I should practice some good gibberish. OR I could start ranting to strangers about fat hatred and misogyny, and give my husband the night off.
Tari, you’re…obviously a lot more confident than I am. I am in awe of people with, you know, BOUNDARIES. Which they then DEFEND. Against PERFECT STRANGERS.
Shinobi, me too. Right after this martini.
peggy, DON’T FEEL BAD. decent guys don’t badger strange women in the street. i have had far too many safety-questioning experiences to respond to someone just to be polite. i ignore them, all of them. i have definitely gotten called every name you can think of for refusing to even make eye contact, but you get used to it. they’re just going to do it to another woman after you, so it’s not like you’re turning down someone who is trying desperately to find true, pure love.
Hi Peggy
“The bind we’re in” hit home for me. I had found myself in the same problem not long ago. I deduced this problem down to the source- my lack of self esteem. I had a constant, tireless desire to keep other people happy, sometimes… a lot of the time… at the expense of my own happiness. Whether it was people that I knew or strangers on the street, I felt if I made other people happy then I would be a well liked person- I was a people pleaser and I was wearing myself out for others. To boot, at the end of the day I wasn’t seeing that expected benefit of being well-liked in the way that I had expected. I mean, there were the aquaintances and friends that respected me and enjoyed my company GREAT! But there were also the other who knew me as a people pleaser, and used this advantage to, well I might as well have made my bed under the door mat. My friends were telling me too… “Just be yourself”; “Why do you act differently with that person than the way you do with us?”; “Don’t let him speak to you that way”, and the list of friendly concerns goes on and on.
And then, I guess with some matured logic, I realized that I have and always had, a great personality and unique looks. Now I have the confidence to enter into conversation with a stranger on the street, with a stranger at a party, with a friend, anybody… without the preconceived desire to keep this person happy. Our own opinions and ideas are valuable and can bring to light points that other people may not have otherwise considered. It’s important, for the good of humanity and society, to show our differences in every way that they manifest themselves. Show yourself!
Specifically about strangers, I have recently discovered that you can turn the conversation around and make it about the other person. Ask a few questions, take a modest interest in their responses, and end it with a pleasant “Good day” before the stranger gets back to asking questions about you. This way you’ve had a pleasant encounter and you haven’t disclosed any of your own personal information. Walk away feeling confident Lady Peggy!
I understand what you’re saying. I’m pretty oblivious to people in general, however if anyone dared to throw a adult temper tantrum trying to get my attention, or something just as immature. I’d tell them straight off, that they were harassing me and if they didn’t stop I would call the authorities.
It seems like society still, belives that women have to be nice 24/7. Like, cause what’s the point of having women around if they’re not going to be inert beings with which to post our issues of masculinity on. At least I think that’s what guys are thinking.
I’m a tomboy so perhaps that’s why I don’t have much trouble telling guys off, I also have the ability to act like one of the guys, which in some cases might scare them off for some reason. Like, I know what they’re thinking. I don’t think there’s any good reason men should be able to treat women like the ways you’ve described in our society.
Like the man throwing the adult temper-tantrum. I would’ve told him, or wanted to have told him depending on how threatening he was, “What is this? Some sort of mommy fixation? You want me to discipline you like your mother? Hey bud, people pay for those things. It’s called hiring a Dominatrix.” Most people don’t expect that kind of directness from a woman, and it freaks them out.
I feel if it gets that bad, don’t be afraid to call the police. Perhaps some people might say it over-reactionary. Or that you could’ve just as well gotten security to do the job, which I do suggest asking security first, only because they would arrive to the situation faster than the cops. I don’t get where being a woman means you should take crap from people.
I mean, like the guy, you know I could spend all day trying to figure out why he was being so immature. Maybe he’s just a jackass. Maybe it’s just that simple.
I agree with Ginger, that because men assume we’re fat we have low self-esteem, and therfore would be desperate enough to go out with a loser. You know what though, if you then tell them off they feel doubly rejected, cause it’s like “Great now I’ve been rejected by a FAT girl! I might as well resign and turn gay!” I don’t really know how to handle oversexed dorks myself, and I have Asperger’s Syndrome, so you would think seeing as I spend alot of time amongst dorks, I’d have learned something.
Oh wait, I know what you do, keep on hand a good amount of Yuri (Japanese porn involving women), and if they bother you just fling it into their face. They’ll be completely stunned and stupified by it, while you make your get away! As an added bonus, they might assume you are a lesbian because you’re carrying around pictures of revealing women.
MsChilePepper, on the subject of scaring people off by spouting random gibberish. There was an hilarious episode of the show Camp Lazlo from Cartoon Network called S is for Crazy. Samson, the ginuea pig camper, is peer pressured into touching a rather vicious form of jellyfish. It fries his brain out, so he puts the jellyfish on his head and keeps saying “Craaaaaayyyyyzzzyyy!”
There are some great gibberish moments, where Samson says things like, “Peanut butter shortcake!” “Hi-ho sherrif!” “Peanut…butter…CRAZY!” and towards the end he says like a stoned hippy, “That’s crazy man…” then yells “I LIKE IT!” LoL, so there’s some funny deranged stuff you could say to people to scare them off.
I just have a general comment about your blog that doesn’t fit into the topic:
I wanted to tell you how intelligent and thoughtful you are. I was in a very foul mood. Your writing has bumped my mood up. Thank you.
Wow, Sarah. That is the nicest thing I’ve heard all day :)
Glad I could help!
Ha. Thanks. That cheered me up.
I hope I am intimidating. But, somehow I think it might be just the fact that I’m completely capable of being a stuck-up asshole to strangers, especially scummy men. If I notice what I do to be difficult to approach, I’ll post advice.