A Journey

Do you know what I do frequently? Not always. But often…

When I’m coming home at night I text The Husband every step of my journey.

I text him when I get on the tube. I text him when I change line. I text him when I get out of the tube.

I text him when I’m on the bus.

I text him when I am one stop away from getting off the bus to walk the last few minutes of my journey home.

One day, after years of waking up to a barrage of messages that he knew I had known he wouldn’t be awake for, he asked: “Why do you text me a blow by blow account of your journey home?”

And my answer was: “So that you know where I was, and when, if I go missing”

And I laughed after I said it, because it sounded completely insane when I said it out loud.

But that IS why.

This week Twitter has been full of men and women saddened and angry and trying to get their heads around the awful news surrounding Sarah Everard. It says a lot about how accustomed you become to a bad situation, that I am reading tweets by women about their experiences walking home at night and nodding in recognition; and then reading tweets by men about what they do, when walking, to make women feel safer and crying with gratitude.

Women should not feel grateful when men behave decently. It should be normal.

We should not feel the need to clutch our keys between our fingers when we walk home at night.

We should not feel the need to have our thumbs continuously hovering over our husband’s/partner’s/friend’s number on speed-dial in the other hand.

We should not feel the need to wait until the very last minute before getting off a bus or a tube to stay aware of whether someone decides to follow us or not.

We should not feel afraid of listening to a podcast or some music while walking because it means we’re not aware of my surroundings.

We should not feel the need to walk at a ridiculous speed – not actually running because that might encourage the guy walking behind us to chase – but way faster than something classed as ‘walking’.

We should not feel the need to walk down the middle of the road, when we turn off a main street, incase someone is lurking in the shadows, or because we’ll be more visible if we have to put up a fight.

We should not have to text our friends the number plate and registration number of any taxi we get in.

We should not have to keep looking over our shoulder as we unlock our front door, for fear of being pounced on.

We should not have to text our friends when we’re home safely. We should not have to wait up until our friends have texted us that they’re home safely.

If something DOES happen to us, we should not be told that we should have been doing all of the above.

And yet, every single woman I know does all these things.

And no, I don’t think men should be put under curfew, just the same as I don’t think women should be told to stay home after dark, but I urge every man I know to just be aware of how very real and justified that niggling discomfort that women carry around with them every day of their lives is. We can feel it in the pits of our stomachs. We won’t let it stop us from living our lives, but it’s there, and every time men lean in after we’ve given a sign that we don’t want that, it rises. And the further they lean in, the more it rises and flutters, until it’s in our chests and our throats and it’s thumping. And suddenly it’s not discomfort, it’s full blown fear.

I have been flashed multiple times.

I have been groped more often than I can remember.

I have had men shout at me in the street.

I have been followed in the street.

I have had men lose their temper with me because I’ve turned them down in bars.

I have had taxi drivers send me inappropriate messages after they have dropped me off at my front door.

I have had men not take ‘no’ for an answer until I have literally shoved my wedding ring in their face. Like somehow “no” isn’t acceptable unless the reason for it is that you belong to someone else.

I have had a man follow me home from a party held in the home of friends.

I have been assaulted in the street, in cinemas, in bars, on public transport, in clubs and more.… and more … and more … and more…

This is not a post about me – I can understand how it very much sounds like it is. But all women I know have experienced some, if not all, of this behaviour, and some have experienced a lot, lot worse…

Decent men should not feel like they have to go out of their way to show they are not a threat. It should be expected. This is not how the world should be. It breaks my heart that so many of you reading this are lovely, caring, kind, wonderful men who I love deeply, and who would never hurt anyone, but the women who don’t know you, don’t know that. What they do know, roughly, is what the statistics look like:

The women who don’t make it home. The women who are raped. The women who are beaten up and left for dead.

And when men lean in and carry on doing so despite us giving a clear signal that we are uncomfortable, we don’t know how far that will go. It could be over after a “hello”, but it may well not end that innocently. From the shock and horror I’ve seen on social media this last week, I just don’t think many of you realised how visceral and deep rooted that fear is. But now you do. So please respect the boundaries of the women you come into contact with. And if you see your friends not doing so, please tell them. We are all so very, very tired.

And for Sarah … and all the other women who didn’t make it home… I have no words … I am just so, so sorry that there wasn’t somebody there for you when you needed it.