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Women and girls are harassed relentlessly from a young age, government report says - REBOOT

The balanced conclusion here is surely that yes, women should not be expected to smile on request and in many cases it can amount to gender stereotyping, sexism in some cases and who knows actual misogyny in others, and in many cases it will be annoying, and the cumulative effect can reach the level of harassment.

On the other hand, suggesting that saying, 'hey smile' to a stranger or acquaintance is either (a) always a bad thing, or alternatively (b) always intended in a bad way, as some here have done, is obviously and demonstrably going too far. In fact, the same thing could be said about general cases of commenting on a stranger's physical attractiveness, and even at a pinch wolf-whistling. In the case of the latter (and perhaps 'hey, smile') we could say that most women, something like 4 out of 5 in the UK in the case of wolf whistling I read, do not generally like it however. And even then, the remaining 1 out of 5 will not think it is always acceptable. Australian women seem, according to one study, to be the most accepting of it (wolf whistling deemed offensive by only 25% of them).

Some polls suggest that women comment on the physical attractiveness of a stranger more often than men (although it is not clear whether that includes commenting on other women) which suggests that there are 'appropriate' ways (and presumably contexts in which) to do it which are more often deemed acceptable. Also, of course, men are generally less likely to see the potential negatives of receiving such a comment from a woman, however expressed, for a variety of reasons (including the reduced risks of it being a potential precursor to anything unbenign or harmful) and for that reason I think men should be more careful before assuming that making a particular approach or remark to a woman is ok. I myself would never say hey smile or wolf whistle. I wouldn't say anything of that ilk to a female stranger walking in the street. I would even be careful about admiring glances because they can easily be seen as intrusive by many women, especially if they are anything more than brief.

As someone else suggested, if one does want to make contact, a friendly smile is best, imo, and even then one has to understand that this may not be particularly welcomed, especially by a woman going about her business walking on a street, since a lot of the time such women are not seeking contact with passers by.
 
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This woman is an attorney and an author; a highly accomplished professional. I could feel her terror (and rage) as she told her story on Twitter; and it reminded me of this thread.

A quick reminder for men: Common events for you can turn into really scary situations for women in a snap.

Case in point: This week I listed a clothes dryer on the Letgo app. Because it was a dryer, a neutral meeting location was impractical. I needed it taken out of my house. To try to stay safe, I decided to only allow people to pick it up after 5 when my husband would be home. But a guy who works nights asked if he could come in the am instead; I said yes as long as you're here before husband leaves for work. The next morning, buyer isn't here before husband leaves. I message and tell him not to come. He shows up 15 min later. In addition to being late, he has no dolly or help, despite the ad saying the dryer was in a basement & you'd have to remove yourself. He says he will come back with help, I say after 5 would be great. He then asks if he could just see it real quick before coming back and bringing someone over, in case he doesn't want it. So, now I have a decision to make.

I quickly try to assess my likelihood of danger, as every woman has done so, so many times. It's instinct. First, what's his age? Late 60s, early 70s. He's tall but thin. Wearing a wedding ring. Hasn't smiled at me strangely or looked at me for too long. I make a judgment call. Feeling like he's more likely to be safe than unsafe, and feeling badly about not letting him see the dryer, I invite him in. Once in the basement, he's POSITIVE he can get it out with just a LITTLE help he says, looking at me. Fuck it. I pick up a side.

Walk to the stairs is fine. We're sharing the work. With each stair, I'm feeling more and more of the weight. I'm sweating. Heaving. Pissed. Halfway up the stairs and it feels like he's doing NOTHING.
And then I see it. The look on his face.

He's staring at me, hard. Right in the eyes, sly smile on his lips. My hair is matted to my forehead. I can't get a comfortable grip. I'm just about to ask him what's going on - is he even lifting? - when he starts to speak.

"Damn, girl. Look at you. Man, those thighs. Put em to work, huh? That sweat looks good on you. Workin thighs like that, I bet your husband is a happy man. C'mon, show me what you got." I was mortified. And I'm realizing I can't get out. He & a dryer I'm lifting are blocking me. How sweaty & wet my breasts were, and "is that because of ME, girl? I do that to you?" They were gross, & shocking from someone 2ft away slowly adding weight onto you.

So I do what women do, lower my eyes, pretend to laugh a little, start lifting faster. The comments and staring hey worse but I try to block them out. As soon as I am free of the basement I walk straight past him to my phone, wait 5 seconds, and say, "honey, the buyer is here!"

And wanna guess what happened? He left without buying it. Was this guy going murder me? Probably not. But I'm not sure. Am I pissed I had to worry about being murdered in my own home because grandpa creeper likes sweaty women? Yeah. Fucker.

The point - other than my being pissed and wanting to tell people - is that events like this, even when we come out ok, take an emotional toll. I was scared. He left more and more of the weight on me & watched me squirm. And now I have one more "thing" that I have to worry about.

So men, if you want to be allies, then recognizing that assault is bad is just the minimum. For every sexual assault, there are thousands of events that don't lead to violence but which scare the shit out of us, especially after our "assessment" turns out to have been wrong.

And obviously, if you ever are in a woman's home alone, whether during a service call or an online sale like this, accept if she's home alone, she's likely done the assessment. Respect her space, don't do gross shit. The basics. Please.

UPDATE: This man just showed up at my house. It's 10pm. Husband answered doorbell, drunk guy mumbles "wrong house" & goes back to his truck. I looked out the window and saw it was him. Tomorrow I'll be here alone with my 4yo while my husband is at work. Terrified in my own house.

UPDATE 2: called the police, they were VERY helpful & said I'm in a great spot for rotating cars to sit outside as much as they can tomorrow. Going to see about taking my little one & spending the day at a friend's house tomorrow just in case. Thank you to everyone for support.

A final comment about this: when I was stuck on the steps with that dryer & he was saying that disgusting shit, I just wanted to escape. I was scared but was calculating how to get out of the situation. Later, as I typed up this story, my fear had given way to rage & disgust.

‏And then tonight, when he came back, any fantasies I may have harbored earlier while I was typing this story about telling him to fuck off, leave me alone, etc - ALL of those disappeared immediately. I saw him and felt nothing but terror. This wasn't a man who'd physically hurt me. He didn't rape me. Never even touched me, in fact. He just said gross shit as I struggled with a heavy appliance. Not that it was nothing, but in the grand scheme of things, my experience was nothing compared to the evil shit people do to each other every day. And yet what I felt when I saw him tonight was nothing short of terror. I will never, ever, be one of those movie heroines who seeks revenge and stands up for herself to teach the bad guy a lesson. I'm the girl who starts crying & shaking so badly she can't say the words "that's him" clearly. And if I'm being honest, I'm ashamed of that. For all my marching and fist-waving and dreams about screaming at bastards like Kavenaugh in some restaurant one day, the truth is that in the moment, I crumbled. I cried when I typed this update & when I called the police.

The rage that I felt earlier when I told this story hay not have been productive, but it felt good. I enjoyed thinking that this rage would protect & strengthen me if this ever happened again. But then when he showed up, that rage turned to mist. Nothing had changed in me. There was no newfound bravery or empowerment, no matter how much I wanted it to be so. And that's ok. I know it is ok to be scared. But I could've lived without having my fantasy disproven so quickly. It was warm & made me feel good about myself, and I'll miss it. So, attention you asshole from letgo. It wasn't enough that you said those things & trapped me in my house & scared me & that my back is killing me now from holding that thing & moving it so fast. It wasn't enough that I'd never felt scared on my house before you showed up here tonight. On top of all of that, you also took from me any hope that I would be one of those women who could turn fear to strength. I'm not one. But I would've liked to believe I was, & you took that from me, too. And damn it, fuck you for that, whoever you are. Just please, please don't come back.

https://twitter.com/tragedythyme/status/1049191913943969798
 
This woman is an attorney and an author; a highly accomplished professional. I could feel her terror (and rage) as she told her story on Twitter; and it reminded me of this thread.

A quick reminder for men: Common events for you can turn into really scary situations for women in a snap.

Case in point: This week I listed a clothes dryer on the Letgo app. Because it was a dryer, a neutral meeting location was impractical. I needed it taken out of my house. To try to stay safe, I decided to only allow people to pick it up after 5 when my husband would be home. But a guy who works nights asked if he could come in the am instead; I said yes as long as you're here before husband leaves for work. The next morning, buyer isn't here before husband leaves. I message and tell him not to come. He shows up 15 min later. In addition to being late, he has no dolly or help, despite the ad saying the dryer was in a basement & you'd have to remove yourself. He says he will come back with help, I say after 5 would be great. He then asks if he could just see it real quick before coming back and bringing someone over, in case he doesn't want it. So, now I have a decision to make.

I quickly try to assess my likelihood of danger, as every woman has done so, so many times. It's instinct. First, what's his age? Late 60s, early 70s. He's tall but thin. Wearing a wedding ring. Hasn't smiled at me strangely or looked at me for too long. I make a judgment call. Feeling like he's more likely to be safe than unsafe, and feeling badly about not letting him see the dryer, I invite him in. Once in the basement, he's POSITIVE he can get it out with just a LITTLE help he says, looking at me. Fuck it. I pick up a side.

Walk to the stairs is fine. We're sharing the work. With each stair, I'm feeling more and more of the weight. I'm sweating. Heaving. Pissed. Halfway up the stairs and it feels like he's doing NOTHING.
And then I see it. The look on his face.

He's staring at me, hard. Right in the eyes, sly smile on his lips. My hair is matted to my forehead. I can't get a comfortable grip. I'm just about to ask him what's going on - is he even lifting? - when he starts to speak.

"Damn, girl. Look at you. Man, those thighs. Put em to work, huh? That sweat looks good on you. Workin thighs like that, I bet your husband is a happy man. C'mon, show me what you got." I was mortified. And I'm realizing I can't get out. He & a dryer I'm lifting are blocking me. How sweaty & wet my breasts were, and "is that because of ME, girl? I do that to you?" They were gross, & shocking from someone 2ft away slowly adding weight onto you.

So I do what women do, lower my eyes, pretend to laugh a little, start lifting faster. The comments and staring hey worse but I try to block them out. As soon as I am free of the basement I walk straight past him to my phone, wait 5 seconds, and say, "honey, the buyer is here!"

And wanna guess what happened? He left without buying it. Was this guy going murder me? Probably not. But I'm not sure. Am I pissed I had to worry about being murdered in my own home because grandpa creeper likes sweaty women? Yeah. Fucker.

The point - other than my being pissed and wanting to tell people - is that events like this, even when we come out ok, take an emotional toll. I was scared. He left more and more of the weight on me & watched me squirm. And now I have one more "thing" that I have to worry about.

So men, if you want to be allies, then recognizing that assault is bad is just the minimum. For every sexual assault, there are thousands of events that don't lead to violence but which scare the shit out of us, especially after our "assessment" turns out to have been wrong.

And obviously, if you ever are in a woman's home alone, whether during a service call or an online sale like this, accept if she's home alone, she's likely done the assessment. Respect her space, don't do gross shit. The basics. Please.

UPDATE: This man just showed up at my house. It's 10pm. Husband answered doorbell, drunk guy mumbles "wrong house" & goes back to his truck. I looked out the window and saw it was him. Tomorrow I'll be here alone with my 4yo while my husband is at work. Terrified in my own house.

UPDATE 2: called the police, they were VERY helpful & said I'm in a great spot for rotating cars to sit outside as much as they can tomorrow. Going to see about taking my little one & spending the day at a friend's house tomorrow just in case. Thank you to everyone for support.

A final comment about this: when I was stuck on the steps with that dryer & he was saying that disgusting shit, I just wanted to escape. I was scared but was calculating how to get out of the situation. Later, as I typed up this story, my fear had given way to rage & disgust.

‏And then tonight, when he came back, any fantasies I may have harbored earlier while I was typing this story about telling him to fuck off, leave me alone, etc - ALL of those disappeared immediately. I saw him and felt nothing but terror. This wasn't a man who'd physically hurt me. He didn't rape me. Never even touched me, in fact. He just said gross shit as I struggled with a heavy appliance. Not that it was nothing, but in the grand scheme of things, my experience was nothing compared to the evil shit people do to each other every day. And yet what I felt when I saw him tonight was nothing short of terror. I will never, ever, be one of those movie heroines who seeks revenge and stands up for herself to teach the bad guy a lesson. I'm the girl who starts crying & shaking so badly she can't say the words "that's him" clearly. And if I'm being honest, I'm ashamed of that. For all my marching and fist-waving and dreams about screaming at bastards like Kavenaugh in some restaurant one day, the truth is that in the moment, I crumbled. I cried when I typed this update & when I called the police.

The rage that I felt earlier when I told this story hay not have been productive, but it felt good. I enjoyed thinking that this rage would protect & strengthen me if this ever happened again. But then when he showed up, that rage turned to mist. Nothing had changed in me. There was no newfound bravery or empowerment, no matter how much I wanted it to be so. And that's ok. I know it is ok to be scared. But I could've lived without having my fantasy disproven so quickly. It was warm & made me feel good about myself, and I'll miss it. So, attention you asshole from letgo. It wasn't enough that you said those things & trapped me in my house & scared me & that my back is killing me now from holding that thing & moving it so fast. It wasn't enough that I'd never felt scared on my house before you showed up here tonight. On top of all of that, you also took from me any hope that I would be one of those women who could turn fear to strength. I'm not one. But I would've liked to believe I was, & you took that from me, too. And damn it, fuck you for that, whoever you are. Just please, please don't come back.

https://twitter.com/tragedythyme/status/1049191913943969798

I understand her fear and disgust. I don’t understand why she didn’t drop her end of the dryer and tell him she was calling the police.

I wouldn’t have let him in my house in the first place.

Creeps test the waters. You can’t worry about seeming rude or unfriendly. You set the parameters: sorry, you have to come back after 5. Close the door. Turn the lock. Have your phone on your hand until you see him gone—really gone.
 
I understand her fear and disgust. I don’t understand why she didn’t drop her end of the dryer and tell him she was calling the police.

I wouldn’t have let him in my house in the first place.

Creeps test the waters. You can’t worry about seeming rude or unfriendly. You set the parameters: sorry, you have to come back after 5. Close the door. Turn the lock. Have your phone on your hand until you see him gone—really gone.

Good advice but like most of us, I think, we rationalize that its #NotAllMen, so we shouldn't treat all men as if they are that creeper (or rapist). We try to do the assessment instead - and even that pisses off too many men (as evidenced in this thread).

For women it seems the choice is to initially treat all men as if they might be a rapist/creeper, or to do our best - at our own peril - to assess whether any specific man is a danger to us.

So, men... your thoughts?
 
I understand her fear and disgust. I don’t understand why she didn’t drop her end of the dryer and tell him she was calling the police.

I wouldn’t have let him in my house in the first place.

Creeps test the waters. You can’t worry about seeming rude or unfriendly. You set the parameters: sorry, you have to come back after 5. Close the door. Turn the lock. Have your phone on your hand until you see him gone—really gone.

Good advice but like most of us, I think, we rationalize that its #NotAllMen, so we shouldn't treat all men as if they are that creeper (or rapist). We try to do the assessment instead - and even that pisses off too many men (as evidenced in this thread).

For women it seems the choice is to initially treat all men as if they might be a rapist/creeper, or to do our best - at our own peril - to assess whether any specific man is a danger to us.

So, men... your thoughts?

Yeah, there's an entire thread: https://talkfreethought.org/showthread.php?16479-Men-Have-you-felt-a-woman-s-fear

Not everyone gets it.
 
I understand her fear and disgust. I don’t understand why she didn’t drop her end of the dryer and tell him she was calling the police.

I wouldn’t have let him in my house in the first place.

Creeps test the waters. You can’t worry about seeming rude or unfriendly. You set the parameters: sorry, you have to come back after 5. Close the door. Turn the lock. Have your phone on your hand until you see him gone—really gone.

Good advice but like most of us, I think, we rationalize that its #NotAllMen, so we shouldn't treat all men as if they are that creeper (or rapist). We try to do the assessment instead - and even that pisses off too many men (as evidenced in this thread).

For women it seems the choice is to initially treat all men as if they might be a rapist/creeper, or to do our best - at our own peril - to assess whether any specific man is a danger to us.

So, men... your thoughts?

I don't really think that's the choice: treat all men initially as though they might be creeps/rapists or risk being assaulted. For one thing, most women are attacked by men they know, not strangers.

I think that women are too often raised to be too concerned about hurting some poor man's widdle feelings and not about standing up for herself. Not just in terms of physical attacks. We're raised to be nice, to be polite, to care about how other people feel. It's not impossible to be very polite and very caring--and still refuse to allow people to fuck with you.
 
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