Women are Taught to Fear Things That Men Aren’t

From a young age, I’d been taught to be wary of my surroundings and the strangers that sometimes occupied them. I was told to not trust anyone and to avoid speaking to people I don’t know.

I was taught to ignore people to called out to me from their vehicles, and I was told never to approach a stranger’s car for any reason. I shown the basics of self-defense and told to make as much noise as I could if someone tried to kidnap me.

Even my clothing options were decided by my need to protect myself. If I wore shoes I couldn’t run in, that was frowned upon, and I had to think about how easy it would be for a stranger to grab me when styling my hair.

As I grew older, my friends and coworkers shared stories about creepy situations they’d experienced, such as a man who recorded my coworker while she was eating lunch inside her car. Women I watched online also told stories about how they’d found suspicious notes on their cars or when they had an unusual encounter with a stranger.

I also pay more attention during times when I’ll be alone, such as when the store I work at closes or before it opens, or when I bring my dog out after dark.

One Friday morning, I pulled up to my workplace to see a stranger sitting on the bench in front of the store I worked at. It was around 7:55 a.m. and none of the surrounding stores were open, so he couldn’t have been shopping. He also wasn’t wearing a uniform, so I knew he didn’t work in any of the surrounding stores.

The man wasn’t doing anything wrong, but the sight of him filled me with dread. Who was this man, and what was he doing sitting outside before the store was open? Based on the location where I lived, it was likely that he was a panhandler. He probably thought sitting outside our store would bring him a good bit of money. I avoided panhandlers, as some of them are violent or verbally abusive and I’d heard that a few would even spit on people who refused to give them money.

I took notice of the man’s appearance. He was probably in his late twenties to early thirties, and he wore a backpack, jean shorts, and a bucket hat. The hat partially obscured his face as he smoked his cigarette, but I could see hints of dark hair and darker eyebrows. I knew my imagination was probably running wild, but I snapped a picture of him and sent it to someone I trusted just in case something happened.

An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of my stomach when I realized that I would have to walk past him to enter the building. I clutched my phone as I remembered the door was locked I didn’t have a key. I would have to wait outside with the stranger until someone opened the door.

As I studied the stranger, I considered driving away, but I decided that my need for money would have to outweigh my desire to keep myself safe. Just as my hand reached for my car door handle, I spotted my male coworker emerging from his car. I quickly ran after him because I didn’t want to stand outside alone with the man. Luckily, another coworker was standing near the door and opened it for us.

When we were safely inside, I asked my coworker if he thought it was weird that the man was sitting outside before any of the stores were open. He simply replied that he wondered what the man was doing. He wasn’t afraid of the man like I had been. He seemed to forget about the man quickly.

It was more than likely, that he hadn’t been taught to fear strangers like women were. Safety products, like pepper spray, wouldn’t be marketed to him in the same way it was to us. He gets to live a carefree life where he’s doesn’t have to think about strangers possibly harming him.

I remembered a post I had read about another woman’s experience being outside after dark and how she was jealous that men didn’t have to worry about the same thing. I hadn’t realized how right the woman was until I saw my coworker’s reaction to the stranger.

I will never know how nice it is to be outside alone after dark and not have to worry about strangers trying to harm me. Sadly, I will never know how it feels to walk to my car without needing to check my surroundings.

Originally Published On Medium