Street Harassment from the Perspective of Someone Trying to be Good

I suspect a brief walk through a city can be unnerving for a woman. Day or night, men might make some women feel outright frightened. Nothing about this is fair. For years, I’ve contemplated the effects of the stares and the comments. Annoying could turn to threatening quite quickly. I can only speculate about a woman’s experience. I know with certainty how a similar walk feels for me. It hurts.

While I walk, I’m mindful of my effect on others. I’m short and unassuming, but I still consider my proximity and approach. I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. I avert my eyes. I cross the street if I’m going to pass a woman on a lonely block. I change my route if I find I’m walking behind a lone woman. Face to face, I’d never make an unsolicited comment. The most invasive gesture I’d make would be a smile or a good morning. I’d only offer these if I’d inadvertently make eye contact. I might make friendly small talk with someone I see regularly on a train or at a grocery store, but I’d abandon this quickly if I didn’t get obvious positive feedback. I certainly wouldn’t persist if I didn’t get that sense of reciprocal interest.

I’m not saying this to get applause from anyone. I’m just describing how I approach interactions with strangers of the opposite sex. Doing so sets up my point: while I’m busy trying not to offend anyone, I can barely stand being anywhere close to women. Seeing women on the street is debilitating. It doesn’t make me afraid, but sometimes it makes me want to die.

Maintaining a non-threatening presence is important to me. Decorum is also important. I don’t want to be crude, but I definitely want to stare. I want to turn around and follow women with my eyes as they sway past me. I want to change my direction and follow them just so I can watch them walk. Sometimes I have trouble concentrating when I walk from one place to another because women distract me so much. Several times per day, my heart sinks into my stomach and dissolves there. I can’t do anything about it. I’d love to share with women how beautiful I think they are, but I know they don’t want to hear that for some reason, especially not from me. I keep my mouth shut.

Not every man goes through this. Some men get every bit as revved up by the women they see, but they have no restraint. They blurt out their thoughts without inhibition. These men never consider how they make anyone feel. A few of them might be delusional enough to think their aggressive approach will woo some women. Even if they’d know how much they upset the women they harass, they wouldn’t care. They might actually condemn women for not accepting their advances.

Other men are distracted by something else and aren’t as bothered by the women around them. Of course gay men get a pass here, but they might be just as distracted by the men they see. Gay men might have it worse, because they can’t always know the orientation of the men around them. Many straight men can endure because they’ve lost their libidos. The libido can be a curse, so good for them. The most commendable men are the few who are either content with a partnership or somehow enlightened enough to will their desires into a box. I have to wonder about these guys. From the outside, I appear to be one of them. On the inside, I’m mentally having sex with at least a quarter of the women I see everyday. I’ve tried to stop myself from doing this. I’ve failed every time.

I can almost relate with how a woman might feel. I live adjacent to a gay neighborhood. While going about my routines, I’ve felt guys looking at me. A few of these guys have seemed sleazy, but none of them have scared me. I’ve had guys follow me and come on to me aggressively. Although I’ve been uncomfortable, I’ve been annoyed more than scared. More civilized guys have flirted with me and even politely hit on me. I’ve been flattered rather than annoyed by these unsolicited approaches. If anything, I’ve felt like a heel for rejecting them. I know too well the sting of rejection.

I try to be good. I really do. If nothing else, I don’t want to be such a typical creepy guy. Maybe I’m fighting my nature. Regardless, I think the phenomenon of street harassment is an embarrassment for our society. Unlike diseases or accidents, street harassment is completely preventable. No one has to harass. I can vouch for men who struggle not to look, though. Keeping our eyes off women’s bodies really does seem to go against our biological urge. I fight with this daily. I keep fighting to be good. While I’m no martyr, I definitely suffer. I suppose the comfort of the women around me is worth it.