The Reality of Being a Woman is Terrifying
All I know is that wherever I am, I’m watching my back.
It was the first cold day of the season. The sky was bright and clear but there was a crisp wind in the air that blew the freshly mowed grass around our street. It was late morning, around 11:30, when my dog, Rudy, decided she needed to go on her mid-morning walk.
I clipped her leash to her harness and opened the front door. “Be right back,” I sang to my husband on the couch. He smiled and I closed the storm door behind me. Rudy was instantly on high alert. There was a squirrel scurrying across the sidewalk in front of us just as we stepped outside. I gently dragged her in the opposite direction to try and get her attention back.
I breathed in the fresh air and thought wow, it’s a beautiful day. Our neighborhood doesn’t have sidewalks, so we strolled along the left side of the street by the grass. The grass was still slightly damp from yesterday’s rain and stuck to my shoes a bit.
We approached the mailboxes and I decided to take a peek. “Nothin’,” I said under my breath to Rudy. “No mail today.” We crossed the small intersection to a larger field of grass.
I usually try not to stay out with Rudy for too long because she gets easily distracted. She just turned 11 years old and sometimes loses focus when a bird flutters by us. But seeing as it was such a gorgeous day, I let her sniff and explore for a few extra minutes.
Finally, I saw her squat and I got out a bag to pick up after her. As soon as I bent over, I heard an unfamiliar male voice exclaim, “Damn, you’re just bending over like that?”
I froze.
My legs started shaking and my hands felt weak. I stood back up and tied the baggie shut and tugged on Rudy’s leash. “Come on, babe,” I said to her and walked back towards our little house.
The man persisted. “Hey, do you like the Ravens? Why aren’t you turning around? Hey, come on, just answer the question.”
Rudy wasn’t cooperating with my urgency so I scooped her up and carried her the remaining hundred feet to our front step. I yanked open the door and slammed it shut, locking and dead-bolting it behind me.
“What happened?” my husband asked.
“I don’t know. Some guy just started yelling stuff at me.”
I felt embarrassed and stupid for getting scared. It was broad daylight in a safe neighborhood.
Why was I so freaked out?
The fact of the matter is, it doesn’t matter what time of day it is, or what I was wearing, or the fact that I was picking up dog poop. That man felt like I owed him something by simply existing. I never turned around, so I still don’t know what he looked like or what direction he was coming from. All I know is that wherever I am, I’m watching my back.
In a parking lot, at work, apparently even in my own cul-de-sac; as a woman, I’m forced to be careful.
I read stories every day about women getting abducted or attacked in all situations. And unfortunately, that’s the reality of being a woman in the 21st century.
We need to be extra prepared for the unthinkable.
As of February 2020, there were over 298,000 missing women in the United States; most of those women 21 years old or younger. It happens every single day, and I feel that I have to be prepared for the worst, even if I have no reason to.
