I am lucky. Or, rather, I have been lucky so far.
I’m a big lass, always have been, and apparently when I’m wandering around I usually have the Don’t Mess with Me face on. I had no idea about this until someone confessed to me at college that they were scared of me. (Thank you Janet Scantlebury, class of 1989, for making me realise how my face looked.)
I’m lucky in that men don’t really catcall me, unless it’s to call me fat, which is highly unoriginal and when answered with “Yes, and?” seems to have no follow up smart remark, as they mumble and drive off fast.
I’m well past the age of wolf whistling builders, and I think I got all the Bad Men Experiences out of the way before I turned 20. Well, mostly, but that’s another post that needs careful thinking about. (In these days of purple hair, I get compliments!)
I’m tall, hefty, and loud if needed. I’ve done the door at clubs, I’ve managed to back men out of the club door simply by using the power of corseted cleavage.
I’ve faced down myriad childhood demons, and conquered them to the best of my knowledge. I have faced an abuser, and made peace with that.
I’ve flown thousands of miles on my own, and not felt scared shut in a metal tube in the sky.
I have faced myriad medical things on my own, because I insist on doing so. It’s not that I don’t want company, but my resolve and my support needs to be me.
And yet…and yet…and yet…
I don’t walk in the darker places if I don’t have to, just in case.
I have walked with keys poking out through my fingers, just in case.
I have had my phone gripped in my hand, ready to call, but hidden, just in case.
I wear my bag slung across my body, always, held close to me, just in case.
I will move away, change carriage, get off a bus and get the next one, just in case.
I will always tell people where I am going, and text when I get there, just in case.
I have thought over and over of how best to deal with Certain Situations should they happen.
I have casually assessed in passing thought the merits of fight/flight/go limp/befriend/praise/stay silent.
I stay ready and alert to situations where I have to jump in if another woman looks like they need a ‘friend’.
I refuse to move out of the way of men who seem determined to walk right into me, and I put THEM off balance.
I stay alert in a train crush, assessing how to deal with the Wandering Hand when it happens.
I wear heavy boots when commuting, because they feel safe, and toes that get too close will not survive under their heels.
I jam earbuds in, and refuse to engage.
I cross the road to avoid groups of men.
I’m Memorable.
I’m Easy to Spot.
I stay in after dark.
I never get in cabs that I haven’t booked.
I carry a battery pack so that my phone is never out of charge.
I work out routes, I plan the ‘safest’ options.
This is my everyday brain.
Every.
Day.