Rebecca

I’ve recently started riding my bike to work, which feels truly liberating.  But my rides are bringing me into contact with a group I’ve been trying to avoid for years: street catcallers.  My guess is that every woman has been verbally harassed like this at some point in her life, often on a regular basis.  As a resident of a large city, I’ve had my fair share of annoying, embarassing encounters.  And when I’m on my bike, the amount of comments, honks and jeers skyrockets.

On my ride to work today, I got an “Opa!” then a honk just a few blocks later.  I refuse to blame the spandex cycling leggings (what riders call “business attire”) because it doesn’t seem to matter what I wear.  I could go out in a giant, formless bag and still attract unwanted attention just by being a woman.

A year ago, I was walking to my car with my girlfriend.  We were in comfy clothes, sweatpants and t-shirts, going to get coffee.(So to all those victim-blamers out there, no, we weren’t dressed provocatively and therefore “asking for it.”)  A large group of teenage boys was walking down the street, and I got a bit apprehensive when I realized we would cross paths.  As if on cue, one of the boys looks at my girlfriend and says, “mmm very nice.”  I flipped, shouting, “Who the *&^% said that?!” at some 15 year old at least 4 inches shorter than me.  He shrugged and said, “Hey, it’s ...