Women and a Conversation

I recently had a conversation with a good friend of mine. The story is, he asked a girl out who he liked though really they barely knew each other, and she turned him down hard. Like, really hard, almost cruelly. She broke his heart. Yet now they are good friends. He told me he wondered how she could have been so mean one minute and nice the next.

The way I explained it was this: Women often feel threatened by men, in an interesting way. We live in a culture where women and girls are taught to be careful, for every man she sees is a potential attacker, mugger, rapist. And so since this girl didn't reciprocate my friend's feelings, she responded harshly, to deter any further expressions of affection. To deter anything that may have come after, whatever that may be. My friend, of course, responded with "But I would never do that!" and "Not all men are like that!" It doesn't matter that not all men are that way, unfortunately, not in this case. Enough are that all women are cautious. I, myself, work as an office cleaner, and as such, I end up being alone in (probably bad) isolated areas at night, in deserted buildings. My dad has often warned me to check before I leave the building, to lock the outer doors, and to not hang around, especially with my car door unlocked. Why? Because I am a single woman, alone, and vulnerable. I also have been repeatedly told in my life not to stop and help strangers on the side of the road because it may be a ploy to get a girl into a car, alone, and vulnerable. I am told not to do that without a man around. Because I am a single woman, alone, and vulnerable.

Living in this culture, is it any wonder that girl responded the way she did?

He seemed to understand after that, and we moved on, the topic archived, shoved under dusty boxes in a corner.

However, just recently, an article caught my eye. An article about a movement. The "Yes, All Women" movement. I read this and immediately realized that it was exactly what my friend and I had been discussing. (I found good articles here and here that really helped to explain part of the movement and what it's about, if you'd lie a good read). The entire movement really, I think, in its purest form, is focused on the recognition of the fear we women are raised in. And so, I'd like to, in a way, continue this conversation that I once had.


"Not all men attack women. Not all men rape, abuse, belittle, mock, or disrespect women. My life is full of men who don’t do these things. Men who respect women, men who walk with me at night so I’m not alone, men who don’t see me as an object of conquest. I love these men and I respect these men and I am so thankful for these men. And yet, even though I know so many of these trustworthy men, I still have pepper spray on my keychain at all times. I still make my plans in such a way that I am never alone by myself at night. " 

This quote really hit home for me.

Not all men, no.

But! Yes, all women.

Yes, all women have felt some kind of fear, whether from a real or imagined threat.

Have you ever stood at the locked door of your workplace at night for five minutes, terrified to go out, because what if someone's hiding? What if you're attacked? Have you ever been standing on a street corner alone in broad daylight while your family explores the corner store, and felt the need to go find them because a stranger walked down the sidewalk and he looked at you? Have you ever been scared to turn someone down harshly because what if they take it wrong and they hurt you? Have you ever turned someone down harshly so that they could never get the wrong idea and take more than you wanted to give them?

For all of these except the last, the answer is yes for me. One happened only yesterday. And the last, I would hypothesize belongs to the girl who once broke my friend's heart.

I have no idea how to write about this, truth be told. But I feel like I must. I feel like, as a woman who has not yet been attacked but fears it nearly every day, I should speak out.

So I searched, mostly Twitter, and gathered a collection of images that I think address this. Perhaps after getting them up, I will know what I want to say.

This is a legitimate fear. This is something I, we, live with. And though we may be prepared, though we may be able to defend ourselves, I wish we didn't have to. I dream of a world where I can walk through a group of guys, anywhere, anytime, and not feel afraid. A world where I, and those like me, don't have to worry about strangers' glances. Don't have to worry about wandering hands. Don't have to carry pepper spray, hold their keys between their fingers, learn the best way to disable an attacker despite that we may never be attacked.

But it's also not all men, I know. I have many good friends who are guys, and I am comfortable around them both mentally and physically. Yet in some ways I am still wary because I am a woman and I know no other way, not anymore.

How do I best express this?

I wrote an English paper recently, about religion being (overall) beneficial for society. I specifically mentioned the Westboro Baptist Church, a church that has given a lot of religions, and I believe religion in general, a bad name. This church has 40 members. That's, like, one classroom full of people. That's nothing percent of New York City's population, much less the world's population, yet they've damaged the reputation of religion everywhere. Their voices and actions are so much louder than those with good intentions, who often are found working in the background, with a quiet effort to make the world a better place.

There are not a lot of men who would attack women, I think. There are not many who would go to such extremes. The majority of men are very genuinely good people, and (overall) beneficial for society. But this movement specifically mentions those who attack and abuse women. The attackers represent possibly sightly more than nothing percent of the world, yet women everywhere are wary of any man being like them. The voices and actions of these attackers are much louder than those with good intentions, who often are found working in the background, with a quiet effort to make the world a better place.

Hopefully that makes sense.

Their voices are loud and drown out much of the kindness that there is. I occasionally wonder why women still put up with men, and then I remember not even close to a majority are like the ones we fear.

The problem is that there is no way to tell the difference, like there might be with, say, a member of the Westboro Baptist Church. Women have no way to tell until either they are attacked, or left alone. Can you blame us for being cautious?

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I've begun to ramble. Of course, if the purpose of this is to continue that original conversation, to explain why a woman would behave the way she does, then I may still be on track. I'll stop here before I ramble on more. Women are cautious of the few, because their voices and actions are louder than the rest. That is why we act the way we do.

Okay, stopping. Right here. Definitely done.

Not all men, but yes all women.