I Am The Biggest Karen When It Comes to My Safety.
This essay is a vulnerable account of the near-daily sexual harassment I have been dealing with for the past 6 months from a particular man in my neighborhood, my thoughts on police intervention within the black community for the purpose of female safety, and my musings on spiritual protection as well as male protection.
I recently had another enraging encounter with the man on my block who has been sexually harassing me almost every day for the past 6 months.
Now, I have posted about this guy a few times on my blog and in notes, and I have shared other stories of street harassment over the years.
I have also read posts written on public forums by other women who are seeking support in dealing with the same issue. And I have to say…
I’m really annoyed by all the advice people give to women who are sexually harassed on the street.
If you dare open your mouth to share your bleeding heart story of a man who disrespected or scared you in public—you’re aggressively met with a barrage of unsolicited advice that dissects your every move.
Even if one eyeball is out of place, you’re now responsible for having escalated the situation by giving the harasser too much eye contact.
And none of it works!
Now, there are obviously some blatantly unwise things you could do to worsen street harassment…but most women aren’t doing those things. Even if we did—it’s not as if it stopped the damage from being done in the first place.
Yet still, we’re treated as if we don’t have any common sense, and tasked with a laundry list of rules on where to avert our eyes, what to say or not say, proper body language, and which weapons to carry. We’re made to feel like we need to endlessly fix, adjust, and contort ourselves in order to be worthy of common decency.
The subtext is that if harassment actually occurred, it’s because we were simply neither prepared nor smart enough to have avoided the abuse.
Truth is, there is no real way to protect yourself against random men on the street and their unpredictable, abusive behavior.
The ONLY thing that works…is walking with another man.
And I’ve thought deeply about this prospect of walking with another man.
Yes. On days like today, when loser-assholes like the guy on my block grate my fucking nerves—I am reminded that the only reason why he consistently finds the courage to twist his mouth and speak to me with such confidence, is because he knows I lack male protection.
That is the ONLY reason why…and it adds so much insult to injury.
So as I am washing dishes, I think to myself—how can I get a man to walk with me?
How might I go about obtaining the protection of that glorious 3-thug mob who will press this man against the cold brick wall, and serve him a slick warning through gritted teeth about “Trying it again” with me?