I thought this thread was interesting, wondered what people thought about it (it echoes some stuff mrs b was talking about on the phone last night too tbf)
I don’t panic.
But I’m always making risk assessments. Looking ahead to see if there’s an alley entrance I should give a wide berth to, walking wide from the wall when I go round a corner onto a darker street, walking in the middle of the street if the pavements are narrow, checking for the nearest open shops whenever I’m in an area I’m not familiar with, if a car slows down I put my back against the wall or change direction, checking the convex mirrors in the tube station at night but not bothering in daytime, standing backwards on the up escalator to see who’s coming up behind me (because they may follow me out of the station), not stopping to check directions or for any other reason without making sure I’m not isolated etc etc.
How about this. Men reading this, the next time you’re out about, switch on this kind of risk assessment and see what it feels like. See how tiring it is, how much energy it uses up and how it affects your mood. And every time you notice that you've stopped doing it, please realise that most of the women you know do this as a matter of constancy, always and automatically, running the maths in the background, and we’ve been been doing it since our teen years.
One of the things I’ve been thinking about in recent days is not the normal run of the mill bullshit that I usually turn the volume down on, but the fewer but more dangerous times I’ve been approached by men who had something more sinister in mind.
Like, just one instance: I was walking along Coldharbour Lane, wearing high heels because id been out for the night. I’d had a drink or two and I wasn’t in a great mood (things were bad at home). I missed my footing and went down on my hip, immediately got to my feet and switched my attention to “alert” because now I’d signalled that I was “falling down drunk” and therefore easy pickings. Right on cue, a man approached me, he appeared so quietly and so swiftly it was as if he’d materialised out of the air, just waiting for a vulnerable woman to click his intentions into actions. He walked in front of me, I changed direction, looked down, kept waking, he propositioned me, offered to walk me home, put his hand on my arm, and then he put him his foot in front of mine, clearly intending to trip me up. Fortunately, my shin made contact rather than my foot, so I stopped still and held my position, actually leaving my weight against his leg. Because he had hold of my arm. I was stuck. So I had to front it out. So I stared at him, right in the face. I said “I see you, you prick” and out loud I described his face and appearance, his clothing, his height and weight, like a police description. It was very risky, I know. But I had run the maths, and it seemed like smaller risk than asking him “please let me go” (giving him power) and a smaller risk than trying to free myself from his grasp and triggering him to grab me harder.
He did let me go, and he melted back into the dark. I went home, phoned 111 and reported it. No one rang me back.
I didnt panic, I felt really angry.
My mistake was that my attention was distracted by my mood, and my mood was sad and vulnerable. Had I tripped up while feeling strong and powerful and on top of the world, I doubt he’d have approached me in the same way. I think this because most of the times I’ve been approached in a way that felt sinister and immediately dangerous, I’ve been feeling vulnerable. It’s not a hard and fast correlation, but it’s enough to have influenced my internal risk assessment procedures.
But even so, there are times when my diligence fails. It’s fucking exhausting to be on duty with this shit all.the.time.
