Thoughts about Harassment

When it comes to sexual harassment I have seen it all.  I lived in a small town in Saskatchewan called Lucky Lake that was absolutely infested with mysoginists.  At 12 years old I learned to expect having loose change hurled at me from passing cars driven by leering teenage boys.  Throughout the years many dudes have had conversations with my breasts.  Many others have hurled compliments at me from moving vehicles while I was pushing a baby carriage.  At the time I laughed it off as "Well I guess they whistled at me because my kids are proof that I put out."  But really, I was simmering with unexpressed rage.  But what was the point of saying anything?  Any time that I tried to say anything about it to famiy members I would get brushed off or laughed at. 

A tale of being sexually harassed by a high school teacher would be met with "What do you expect?  You have boobs now."  "At least you will get a good grade in that class."  A tale of jerkwads throwing change at me from cars?  Laughter about what a compliment it is that dudes simply can’t control themselves in my presence.  As a result I chose not to spend too much time thinking about it or talking about it.  It’s too frustrating having your complaints brushed off with a head pat and a "there, there dear."  I always figured that there wasn’t much point dwelling on things that I can’t change. But I had all sorts of undefined bad feelings about this kind of thing.  If it wasn’t for all the great feminist communites out there on the interwebz, I would have continued to feel alone with my rage.

I have to admit that I have always looked forward to getting older because as I become less fuckable, random dudes are less likely to bestow their unwanted compliments on me.  Now that I am 32 years old, I figured that my days of being fodder for harassment were over.  Not so!  I have now entered "cougar" territory.  How do I know this, pray tell?  Well the other day I was at the swimming pool with my two young daughters.  While we were sitting in the hot tub I asked a young man sitting next to us for the time.  He told me the time, I thanked him and went back to chatting with my nine year old daughter.  He must have mistaken my polite inquiry as interest because the jerk started following us around the pool.  Luckily it was time for us to leave, but he still followed us to the change room.  He kept trying to make eye contact with me and I did my best to avoid his gaze.  I really wish that I had told him to fuck off, but I am not comfortable with confrontations.  This was a no-win situation for me.  If I had complained to the lifeguard I would have been made to look like an idiot.   So I took the easy way out and left.  I wanted to protect my kids from the knowledge that a lot of men are entitled jerks that think that a public woman is public property but unfortunately I can only protect them for so long.  My children were blissfully unaware of what was going on, but that will only last so long.

Thanks for being there, feminist community, and for listening to me vent.