002.

I had a whole other post planned out, which will be coming soon, but something happened last Saturday night that I feel I have to talk about, despite me not wanting to.

That night I went out with some friends to Brixton Academy to see Manic Street Preachers.  We all had a great time and I jumped on the tube home.  My house is roughly a 10 minute walk from my local tube station.  I've been doing that walk alone, at night, for a little over 10 years now.  I can honestly say I've never, ever had an experience like I did that night.  Heck, I haven't had an experience like that when I've walked home at 4am, alone and sometimes damn drunk.

My route is pretty simple, it's basically a straight line.  Over the years, a lot of new bars have sprung up along that route, but due to the amount of people around, I still consider it the safest way home.  Now, I'm not so sure.

As I walked home Saturday night, I got a few comments, which is nothing unusual when you're a young woman walking past bars, especially since the smoking ban came in.  Usually, I just ignore them and that's the end of it.  I did the same that night, but it wasn't the end.  As I carried on past the bars and onto the residential street, I heard a couple of voices behind me, making comments about me.  They caught up to me and one grabbed my arm.  I've been told I can be fairly violent in certain situations and it's very much an instinctual thing.  As he pulled me, I used my free arm to reach and punch him.  I made contact with some part of him because he let go.  His friend then draped his arm over my shoulder and attempted to touch my breast.  I shoved him, hard, and he was so drunk he went careening into the road and fell.  I sincerely hope he got run over.

The sad thing about all this is that I almost feel lucky because nothing worse happened.  How fucked up is that?  I was put in the position of having to physically fight off two men and I feel lucky.

I really wasn't going to post about this for many reasons, but partly because I've seen what happens with stories like this.  Some idiot will want to know what I was wearing, or what I said, as if anything like that would excuse what they did.  I decided to talk about it because I think silence is worse.  I decided to talk about it because the little girl I used to babysit is almost a teenager and the idea that she might have to deal with this, or worse, makes me see red.

The simple facts of the night are this:
-I was walking home
-I wasn't engaging with anyone
-I was being cat called as I walked past every single bar on my route home

I have to walk past the bar I suspect they were in every day.  Each time I go out, each time I come home.  The lighting on the street is so bad, and it happened so quickly, I have severe doubts as to whether I would recognise them again.  The fact that most drunk white men round here all look and dress the same doesn't really help with that either.

There's all sorts of talk that goes around telling women how to prevent assaults and attacks from men.  I did everything right.  There was absolutely nothing else I could've done to prevent what happened.  So fuck those lessons.  Fuck all the responsibility being put on women to make sure we don't get attacked.

How about teaching men that it's not ok to grab women on the street?  How about teaching men that thinking a woman is attractive doesn't give you the right to touch them?  How about teaching men respect?  How about putting the responsibility on the people who commit the acts and not on the people who suffer because of them?

Like I said, I didn't want to write about this, but silence is worse than what happened.  Silence means what those men did to me goes off in to the ether without any consequences.  If, by writing this, I can make one man correct his behaviour, or one woman realise she's not responsible for a similar experience, then it's done some good.

This won't stop me going out, and it won't change my behaviour on my walks home.  I don't need to change my behaviour.  I did nothing wrong.  The men who grabbed and touched me are the ones who need to change their behaviour.  These streets are mine.  I won't give them up without a fight.

xo