I’vehad to face street harassment on a regular basis since the age of 11. The lewd stares, the whistling, a gang of whispering men turning around and smirking at me, a group of boys coming up to my parked car to drop their number, the not-so-accidental graze a sweaty man would make against me in a crowded market…
I thought I’d seen it all. I thought that this was as bad as it would get for me. Begrudgingly, I had even come to accept it as a collateral damage to my outings. Every time it would annoy me, every time I would ignore it and carry on. So it struck me with surprise that I could come across something that Iwasn’table to brush off.
In a country where 2 in 3 women report having been the victim of a Street Harassment I want to develop the strength and fortitude to take a stand against Street Harassment. My desires is to serve as an inspiration to the many women that suffer in silence with nowhere to turn and to shed light on this urgent issue.
“Being women does not mean we have to endure hardships and cruelty in silent remorse. I want to shout out loud to all women and men that it should not hurt to be a woman.”
I wish I could end this on a more optimistic note, but I cannot. I keep imagining scenarios where I face my harasser and heroically save myself and other women from his harassment. I wonder how that must feel, butI’msuppressed by my own fears. Nonetheless, I know what I must do.
I must not stay silent.
The rest I’ll figure out on the road.