4 Things I Need the Men in my life to Avoid Saying when I’ve been Catcalled.

I want you to support me… not try to save me.

Disclaimer: I use “female-bodied” to indicate inclusion of all who experience harassment due to either identifying, presenting, or being presumed to be a woman — cis, trans, fluid, GNC, et cetera. I use “man/men” to indicate cismen, though harassment is not only exhibited by cismen.

Last week, in recognition of international anti-street harassment week, I wrote an article detailing one of my recent experiences with catcalling.

Several men in my life reached out to me to talk about my experience. They were comments that came from a loving place, perhaps a more progressive place of men who might identify as feminists. They didn’t ask me what I was wearing (though I explicitly stated so in the article) or what time it happened or whether I was alone. They showed genuine concern for what happened to me and many other female-bodied folks.

And in these conversations, I recognized a few trends.

This article is not meant to patronize or criticize the responses that I received. Moreover, it is to highlight some common responses that men in my life have traditionally given when I have tried to talk to them about my experiences. I’ve narrowed it down to four main responses and why, though coming from a place of good intentions and protection, these reactions are not supportive.

1. “That guy was such an asshole. What a prick. (Blah blah rage)!”

I know that you’re trying to empathize with me and validate my perception of my experience. Sometimes this is really helpful in understanding that I’m not “just overreacting” to the behavior or comments to which I have been subjected. Sometimes this is really useful in that it demonizes the behavior or comments of the person and does not blame me for the experience.

But more often than not, this reaction minimizes the greater foundation of my experience. Yes, this guy is a (bleepity bleep bleeper); I agree. However, this response puts all of the focus on this one particular asshole. The broader conversation that needs to be had around rape culture and the entitlement of female bodies is much greater than this man’s socialized character flaws. This takes away from us being able to discuss why catcalling happens, how often it happens, and what we can do about it. And since most rape and catcalling is directed at female-bodied people from men, this is a conversation I really need you to be willing to have with me.

Don’t be afraid to open up that can of worms; it’s already bursting at the seams. We can and need to have this conversation because if you don’t understand the larger context, you won’t understand that my personal experience is my political existence. And while I could tell you to Google that, I’d rather you ask because it’s better to come from me than somebody attempting to mansplain rape culture and cat-calling away.

2. “I wish I had been there when it happened.” or “If I was there, I would have said something.”

Sometimes, I do wish you or another man had been there. While it doesn’t always deter a cat-caller, occasionally it will. But this kind of response is evocative of a savior-mentality and, frankly, I don’t need your patriarchy in addition to his.

This response then becomes about how annoyed you are about this dude’s comments or actions. It suggests that if you were there, my big strong protector, you could or would have shielded me from his harassment and defended my honor. It suggests that I need to be saved by a man from a man. I don’t think I have to go on more about why this is patronizing to me as a woman.

Instead, maybe ask about the experience.

• How often does this happen to me?
• How do I typically respond to catcalling?
• How can you be an ally to me should it happen a) when you’re not there again or b) if you happen to be there?

This opens our conversation up to discuss the difference in our gendered experiences; how and why some female-bodied folks respond to their cat-callers in the way that they do (e.g. smiling politely or humoring the cat-caller) based on society’s expectations of our responses; and it shows me that you realize this is a battle I face with or without you.

3. “I hate that this happened to you. I feel so powerless.”

Word, I hate that this happened to me too! But I need you to understand that me being whistled at, followed, chatted up, or yelled at is not about you and how you feel. It is entirely about me. I appreciate that you’re empathizing so strongly with my experience. I appreciate that you love me so much that you consider this an attack on your emotional well-being as well. But when you respond this way, the conversations shifts back to you.

As noted above, I don’t need or want you to save me. I also don’t need you to steal the spotlight in a really traumatizing episode in my life. Let me share my experience without trying to make it yours, too. Let me get out my fear, my anger, and my frustration without competing with yours, too. More often than not, this forces me to step into a gendered role of being the comforter. In a situation where ultimately I need some support and comfort to an extent, it doesn’t benefit me to be comforting you.

A better approach might be to ask me how I felt before, during, and after it happened; or, perhaps, how I feel talking to you, a man, right now after being catcalled by another man. This allows me to share my experience and then, sure, let’s open the door to talk about how it makes you feel. That can lead us to the discussion around your experience in this and how it makes you feel that other men do this to me. We can also talk about your role in making the streets a safer place for all female-bodied people.

4. “I wish there was something I could do to help women like you.”

Ignoring that this suggests that I am a particular type of woman, I want to note that this reaction isn’t supportive but can be the springboard to action.

But why isn’t this supportive? What’s wrong with that?

First, the word “help” is problematic. I prefer the term “support” or “advocate with” because they support a strengths-based approach. Supporting me in this fight means that we are working collaboratively to end rape culture and objectification of female bodies. Advocating with implies the same, and it suggests that you’re coming from a place of wanting to be more active in this struggle. “Help,” to me, constructs me as a weaker vessel that needs to be rescued. I am not the survivor, in this context, but the victim.

Second, this response tells me that although this catcalling thing sucks and is harmful, you’re not willing to do much about it. Any church folks out there will understand this one — it is akin to the response, “I wish I could help… I’ll be praying for you.” While it seems like a kind thing to say, and perhaps it comes from a great place, it comes from a space of inaction and unwillingness to advocate for change.

It is a great springboard though — because wish granted, there are things you can do! There are resources about sexual harassment and websites with organizations you can get involved in to end rape culture and all that comes with it. You can also educate yourself with current research on catcalling, harassment, sexual assault, and violence against female-bodied people in multiple capacities; that only requires an internet or Google search, which you can also do to gain more resources and knowledge about being an advocate.

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I know some of you are reading this and throwing your hands up — well damn, you just can’t do anything right, can you? I’ll let you have your moment. It’s okay to feel frustrated; I feel frustrated, too. Most female-bodied people do. But I come from a belief that it is imperative for men to collaborate with female-bodied folks in this struggle, this culture that normalizes rape, harassment, and sexual violence and degrades female bodies. I don’t need or want you to be in the front row. But I do need and want you in the crowd with me, around me, and working together with me.

Because until you see this as an issue, one that affects you and that you can help to dismantle, I’m going to continue to weave stories of catcalling and harassment into the fabric of my personal narrative. Until you recognize that these general responses add to being victimized or patronized further by my experience, I’ll continue to be politely frustrated and send you I-don’t-know-what-to-say type responses to your reactions.

Everyone is different and maybe other female-bodied folks feel differently. But for the men in my life, please take note. I want you in this with me.