p.p.s I am so fucking proud of you for fighting back. So proud of you for writing this and pressing publish and not deleting it. Don't delete it. Your body did exactly what it was meant to, tell her how proud you are of her too. Sending you a massive hug xoxo
I’d be furious for you if we hadn’t all been drilled in the expectations that such things will happen if we don’t take precautions. And that indifference borne of expectation is exactly part of the problem.
Sending love and hopes for a more peaceful future for you.
Thank you, Nicole. For the most part, life is very peaceful and the only daily dramas are whether the tomatoes have survived the latest round of storms. These incidents really aren't part of everyday life, but they still happen more than they should.
I really don't think this experience is unusual. Every woman I've had the conversation with has some version of the same story. I used to get so fed up with being told to "be careful" and always had a visceral reaction to being told to limit myself just in case something happened. I thought my reaction was unusual at the time. Everyone I knew "took care". Now, I think we're beginning to finally say it out loud. It's just not good enough.
Hi, JP! Yes, the feedback on this has vindicated my decision to post. Gremlins well and truly slain (ish). I don't know if you remember, but I came to one of your Arvon life writing courses a few years back (pre Covid). You and Alice Jolly. I still have great memories of that week and hope to get back to another Arvon course soon. Are you still teaching for them?
I'm so sorry this happened to you Miranda, I'm so sorry that every one of these experiences happened to you. There is something so deeply ingrained in us to stay quiet and stay small, as though that will help us stay safe. But when it really matters, small and quiet doesn't keep us safe at all - you are fucking amazing for fighting back, both in the moment and by publicly sharing your story here xx ps - I read this when you first posted it but it's taken a few days of thinking and processing to be able to comment.
My only regret, at that time and ever since is that I didn't punch him harder. Even that feels like something I'm not "allowed" to say. But like everything that's beyond our comfort level, the more I practice it, the more I feel entitled to do so. Thank you for your solidarity, Nanette. And I understand the need to process stuff before replying. I really appreciate the care and thoughtfulness behind that instinct. I'm very glad to have you here. xx
Thank you for that courageous post. We are indeed bred "not to make a fuss" and not to trust our fear and our anger. Socialized to be so freaking nice and manage the risks caused by others behaving very badly
Miranda, firstly I am so heartbroken that you have had these experiences. But I like many other women reading this will be nodding in unison, for it too has happened to them on multiple occasions. I was glued to your every word. I felt so angry at your attacker, but mostly about the police and their response. I used to work as a witness care officer when I was at uni in the uk... it was tough. listening and comforting all those witnesses through crimes that were so personal and invasive, it was the hardest 12 months of my working life. The system truly is broken, and I say that as someone who has experienced it from within. I have had so many near misses, misses due to my strong intuition and fast flight response. Misses due to luck, sheer luck. Once such incident happened in broad day light whilst walking from work to home, I was only 17 and had my younger sister with me. I felt like we were being watched as we walked through town looking for presents. The last shop that we visited when I saw this early 20's man again, he looked at me that made my skin crawl. My intuition told me I needed to get as far away from him as possible. So, we took another route to get onto the main road to our home as fast as we could. As we approached the car park he was there again, this time with a plastic bag pulling at it between his hands so it was more like a tight piece of rope. Again, to avoid going past him we darted off to the left and took a different route. Just as I thought he had given up, he rode past us on a push bike. At this point I called my parents at home and my dad answered. I quickly explained to him what was going on, but he brushed it off and said I was being paranoid. We kept walking and in the distance, I could see him driving in and out of a mechanics driveway that was closed. Again, I called home, begged my dad to start walking down from our house. Again, he told me to not be silly and to cross the road. I did as he said and saw the man on his mobile. We kept walking and as we approached another cross street, I saw two men in a phone booth on our side of the street. I quickly turned around to see where the other man was and I saw him put his mobile down. As we were going past the phone booth almost in sync with the other man, they also hung up the phone. It was like a movie. It was a busy road. It was the middle of the day. I should have been safe. These other two men followed us, and I told my sister to speed up, we were walking faster, they started calling out to us 'come here' 'we want to talk'... I grabbed my sister's hand and started running. Then they pursued us shouting horrendous things at us. It was terrifying. Cars driving past us were looking at what was going on but no-one stopped. Thank fully I saw my dad walking down the street and I started waving at him shouting 'dad'. The men stopped. The only reason my dad started walking down the street was because my mum questioned who was on the phone. When dad explained it was Lisa and she has called twice being silly. My mum said to him, you better get moving as she doesn't ask for help lightly, something is going on. My uncle was a detective in the local police station so I called him. Two detectives came to take my account of what happened and a description. They told me two girls were attacked yesterday in the park, in the middle of the day by three men who matched my description They were not alone, not in short skirts, they should have been safe but they were not. Makes me crazy furious and so so sad. I am praying that with our next generation of men (I am raising 3 of my own) that they will be different and women will be safe, just as they should be - L xxx p.s. sorry this was massive!
Lisa, this is absolutely horrendous, on so many levels. Please don't apologise for sharing your experience. It's so, so important that we do. That's the whole reason I shared this article. Did the police ever find them? And I can't help but wonder what your dad thought he was achieving by ignoring your call for help.
Even as I write that, a voice in my head is telling me not to blame the bystander. Your dad wasn't responsible for the men who were stalking you. But it's hard enough to ask for help without being disbelieved. After I woke to find the burglar in my bedroom, I phoned my dad and asked him to come over. I had to insist he came NOW because I was alone in the house with a broken back door and in shock. I don't think he even knew why I needed him there and he went out again as soon as he arrived, to buy a newspaper. I still find it hard to forgive him for that thoughtlessness. Not that he knows that. Because that would require me to actually tell him. Which would require me to overcome a lifetime of familial training to not cause a fuss, not stand up for or even express my own needs, etc.
Typically, I never heard back from the police. It’s such a broken system :( I know it made me so angry that my dad didn’t take me seriously. But they are of that generation I guess. Very frustrating though. Oh gosh your dad got a newspaper - yes that would have annoyed me too honey xox
Yes, I'm sure it's a generational thing. Some things and people will never change, however much energy we direct towards them. That futility kept me silent for a very long time. But I was looking in the wrong direction, trying to convince or find solidarity from the wrong people. Realising this helped give me the energy to start speaking. It's not up to me to change anyone else - family members included. I just look in a different direction when I need that kind of support.
I'm not at all surprised you didn't hear anything back from the police. Like you said - the system is broken.
I’m so glad you posted this and haven’t deleted it. Add me to your subscriber list. It does remind me of the time I was hit by a car (as a pedestrian) who wasn’t looking for pedestrians when making a turn (and with a kid in the back seat) and I waved him off as “fine fine” even though I was limping. (I mean I was ok as it turns out just a bit sore but I was in full flight mode.) Now I never cross the road unless I make eye contact with a driver. Even though they are supposed to be aware of their surroundings. Phew. Did this just turn into a confessional?
As a cyclist in London, I learned to ride defensively for this reason. If a driver isn't aware of their surroundings (and cyclists certainly aren't high on their radar), it doesn't matter if they're responsible. As a cyclist, you will invariably come off a lot worse in any accident. I had incidents as a cyclist and as a pedestrian where I've reflexively apologised to the driver, even when they were at fault.
Fortunately, I've pretty much trained myself out of that habit!
Wow, this really hit deep, really resonated with my own experiences of traumatic events and reporting to the police. And other people's reactions to it. Thank you for wording such awful experiences so eloquently, it was a raw and powerful piece. Thank you for sharing, I hope the vulnerability of sharing eases for you soon, I deeply appreciated hearing my own tangle of thoughts being described so very accurately. Thank you x
Thank you, Cat. Every comment and re-post diminishes that vulnerability. That's that solidarity thing at work, eh. Also, it's so lovely to see you over here on Substack. x
Thank you for your bravery & your righteous anger & fuck shame, your body did exactly what it needed to do to shift the probability of escape in your direction...😙💪
Wow, your story really drew me in. Thank you for being vulnerable and brave enough to share it. For me it brings up a story from when I was 16, about a guy who brought me home after a night out. He tried to have sex with me on the kitchen floor and I had to literally push him off of me and out the door, afraid to make a noise and wake my parents, afraid that if I told them I’d be blamed for letting it get so far. I didn’t tell anyone until a decade later because nothing really happened, and I had let him enter the house myself, right?
I'm so so sorry, Lieke. Sorry but not in the least surprised. These expectations and that misplaced sense of responsibility are so ingrained in our culture. I hope your parents confounded 16 year-old you's expectations when you did tell them? Sending you love. x
Miranda. I see you. I see so many similar instances, and a couple very much worse in my own herstory (though it is a sliding scale, always, it is the scale itself that matters, not the details). I see how even now we are not **reeeeaally** encouraged to tell authorities or seek help, despite the advances in public dialogue and #metoo and more. I am so thankful for you sharing this, for writing what has been true for many of us, more of us than not, probably.
That "encouragement" is a bit like being screamed at to tie your shoelaces by one person while someone else holds your hands behind your back and tells you don't have shoelaces and are an idiot for believing you do, and in fact shoelaces don't even exist. They're a myth. Encouraged/lambasted on the one hand and vilified on the other. Shoelaces are a really poor analogy, but you get the point!
And yes - I think, no, I'm certain, this is true for more of us than it isn't.
Thank you for writing this. It's so powerful and human and important and valuable- I'm glad you faced the fear of posting it and I hope that dissipates.
p.p.s I am so fucking proud of you for fighting back. So proud of you for writing this and pressing publish and not deleting it. Don't delete it. Your body did exactly what it was meant to, tell her how proud you are of her too. Sending you a massive hug xoxo
I’d be furious for you if we hadn’t all been drilled in the expectations that such things will happen if we don’t take precautions. And that indifference borne of expectation is exactly part of the problem.
Sending love and hopes for a more peaceful future for you.
Thank you, Nicole. For the most part, life is very peaceful and the only daily dramas are whether the tomatoes have survived the latest round of storms. These incidents really aren't part of everyday life, but they still happen more than they should.
I really don't think this experience is unusual. Every woman I've had the conversation with has some version of the same story. I used to get so fed up with being told to "be careful" and always had a visceral reaction to being told to limit myself just in case something happened. I thought my reaction was unusual at the time. Everyone I knew "took care". Now, I think we're beginning to finally say it out loud. It's just not good enough.
I’m so sorry these things happened to you. And glad I was able to read about it.
I hope you can see in all these comments that you were right to post it.
Hi, JP! Yes, the feedback on this has vindicated my decision to post. Gremlins well and truly slain (ish). I don't know if you remember, but I came to one of your Arvon life writing courses a few years back (pre Covid). You and Alice Jolly. I still have great memories of that week and hope to get back to another Arvon course soon. Are you still teaching for them?
Yes! I was trying to work out where we had me. I did another course with Alice earlier this year. Do come back!
Well, okay then. I will!
Lovely to see you in this Substack space. It’s alright, innit.
I'm so sorry this happened to you Miranda, I'm so sorry that every one of these experiences happened to you. There is something so deeply ingrained in us to stay quiet and stay small, as though that will help us stay safe. But when it really matters, small and quiet doesn't keep us safe at all - you are fucking amazing for fighting back, both in the moment and by publicly sharing your story here xx ps - I read this when you first posted it but it's taken a few days of thinking and processing to be able to comment.
My only regret, at that time and ever since is that I didn't punch him harder. Even that feels like something I'm not "allowed" to say. But like everything that's beyond our comfort level, the more I practice it, the more I feel entitled to do so. Thank you for your solidarity, Nanette. And I understand the need to process stuff before replying. I really appreciate the care and thoughtfulness behind that instinct. I'm very glad to have you here. xx
Thank you for that courageous post. We are indeed bred "not to make a fuss" and not to trust our fear and our anger. Socialized to be so freaking nice and manage the risks caused by others behaving very badly
I have that Dixie Chicks song in my head now ... "I'm not ready to make nice." Now there's an anthem for women's anger.
Miranda, firstly I am so heartbroken that you have had these experiences. But I like many other women reading this will be nodding in unison, for it too has happened to them on multiple occasions. I was glued to your every word. I felt so angry at your attacker, but mostly about the police and their response. I used to work as a witness care officer when I was at uni in the uk... it was tough. listening and comforting all those witnesses through crimes that were so personal and invasive, it was the hardest 12 months of my working life. The system truly is broken, and I say that as someone who has experienced it from within. I have had so many near misses, misses due to my strong intuition and fast flight response. Misses due to luck, sheer luck. Once such incident happened in broad day light whilst walking from work to home, I was only 17 and had my younger sister with me. I felt like we were being watched as we walked through town looking for presents. The last shop that we visited when I saw this early 20's man again, he looked at me that made my skin crawl. My intuition told me I needed to get as far away from him as possible. So, we took another route to get onto the main road to our home as fast as we could. As we approached the car park he was there again, this time with a plastic bag pulling at it between his hands so it was more like a tight piece of rope. Again, to avoid going past him we darted off to the left and took a different route. Just as I thought he had given up, he rode past us on a push bike. At this point I called my parents at home and my dad answered. I quickly explained to him what was going on, but he brushed it off and said I was being paranoid. We kept walking and in the distance, I could see him driving in and out of a mechanics driveway that was closed. Again, I called home, begged my dad to start walking down from our house. Again, he told me to not be silly and to cross the road. I did as he said and saw the man on his mobile. We kept walking and as we approached another cross street, I saw two men in a phone booth on our side of the street. I quickly turned around to see where the other man was and I saw him put his mobile down. As we were going past the phone booth almost in sync with the other man, they also hung up the phone. It was like a movie. It was a busy road. It was the middle of the day. I should have been safe. These other two men followed us, and I told my sister to speed up, we were walking faster, they started calling out to us 'come here' 'we want to talk'... I grabbed my sister's hand and started running. Then they pursued us shouting horrendous things at us. It was terrifying. Cars driving past us were looking at what was going on but no-one stopped. Thank fully I saw my dad walking down the street and I started waving at him shouting 'dad'. The men stopped. The only reason my dad started walking down the street was because my mum questioned who was on the phone. When dad explained it was Lisa and she has called twice being silly. My mum said to him, you better get moving as she doesn't ask for help lightly, something is going on. My uncle was a detective in the local police station so I called him. Two detectives came to take my account of what happened and a description. They told me two girls were attacked yesterday in the park, in the middle of the day by three men who matched my description They were not alone, not in short skirts, they should have been safe but they were not. Makes me crazy furious and so so sad. I am praying that with our next generation of men (I am raising 3 of my own) that they will be different and women will be safe, just as they should be - L xxx p.s. sorry this was massive!
Lisa, this is absolutely horrendous, on so many levels. Please don't apologise for sharing your experience. It's so, so important that we do. That's the whole reason I shared this article. Did the police ever find them? And I can't help but wonder what your dad thought he was achieving by ignoring your call for help.
Even as I write that, a voice in my head is telling me not to blame the bystander. Your dad wasn't responsible for the men who were stalking you. But it's hard enough to ask for help without being disbelieved. After I woke to find the burglar in my bedroom, I phoned my dad and asked him to come over. I had to insist he came NOW because I was alone in the house with a broken back door and in shock. I don't think he even knew why I needed him there and he went out again as soon as he arrived, to buy a newspaper. I still find it hard to forgive him for that thoughtlessness. Not that he knows that. Because that would require me to actually tell him. Which would require me to overcome a lifetime of familial training to not cause a fuss, not stand up for or even express my own needs, etc.
One day ...
Typically, I never heard back from the police. It’s such a broken system :( I know it made me so angry that my dad didn’t take me seriously. But they are of that generation I guess. Very frustrating though. Oh gosh your dad got a newspaper - yes that would have annoyed me too honey xox
Yes, I'm sure it's a generational thing. Some things and people will never change, however much energy we direct towards them. That futility kept me silent for a very long time. But I was looking in the wrong direction, trying to convince or find solidarity from the wrong people. Realising this helped give me the energy to start speaking. It's not up to me to change anyone else - family members included. I just look in a different direction when I need that kind of support.
I'm not at all surprised you didn't hear anything back from the police. Like you said - the system is broken.
I’m so glad you posted this and haven’t deleted it. Add me to your subscriber list. It does remind me of the time I was hit by a car (as a pedestrian) who wasn’t looking for pedestrians when making a turn (and with a kid in the back seat) and I waved him off as “fine fine” even though I was limping. (I mean I was ok as it turns out just a bit sore but I was in full flight mode.) Now I never cross the road unless I make eye contact with a driver. Even though they are supposed to be aware of their surroundings. Phew. Did this just turn into a confessional?
I love a good confessional, Leanne.
As a cyclist in London, I learned to ride defensively for this reason. If a driver isn't aware of their surroundings (and cyclists certainly aren't high on their radar), it doesn't matter if they're responsible. As a cyclist, you will invariably come off a lot worse in any accident. I had incidents as a cyclist and as a pedestrian where I've reflexively apologised to the driver, even when they were at fault.
Fortunately, I've pretty much trained myself out of that habit!
Wow, this really hit deep, really resonated with my own experiences of traumatic events and reporting to the police. And other people's reactions to it. Thank you for wording such awful experiences so eloquently, it was a raw and powerful piece. Thank you for sharing, I hope the vulnerability of sharing eases for you soon, I deeply appreciated hearing my own tangle of thoughts being described so very accurately. Thank you x
Thank you, Cat. Every comment and re-post diminishes that vulnerability. That's that solidarity thing at work, eh. Also, it's so lovely to see you over here on Substack. x
Thank you for your bravery & your righteous anger & fuck shame, your body did exactly what it needed to do to shift the probability of escape in your direction...😙💪
Ha! Quite right.
Wow, your story really drew me in. Thank you for being vulnerable and brave enough to share it. For me it brings up a story from when I was 16, about a guy who brought me home after a night out. He tried to have sex with me on the kitchen floor and I had to literally push him off of me and out the door, afraid to make a noise and wake my parents, afraid that if I told them I’d be blamed for letting it get so far. I didn’t tell anyone until a decade later because nothing really happened, and I had let him enter the house myself, right?
I'm so so sorry, Lieke. Sorry but not in the least surprised. These expectations and that misplaced sense of responsibility are so ingrained in our culture. I hope your parents confounded 16 year-old you's expectations when you did tell them? Sending you love. x
Miranda. I see you. I see so many similar instances, and a couple very much worse in my own herstory (though it is a sliding scale, always, it is the scale itself that matters, not the details). I see how even now we are not **reeeeaally** encouraged to tell authorities or seek help, despite the advances in public dialogue and #metoo and more. I am so thankful for you sharing this, for writing what has been true for many of us, more of us than not, probably.
That "encouragement" is a bit like being screamed at to tie your shoelaces by one person while someone else holds your hands behind your back and tells you don't have shoelaces and are an idiot for believing you do, and in fact shoelaces don't even exist. They're a myth. Encouraged/lambasted on the one hand and vilified on the other. Shoelaces are a really poor analogy, but you get the point!
And yes - I think, no, I'm certain, this is true for more of us than it isn't.
Thank you, Natalie.
A really powerful post, thank you for sharing and so sorry that happened to you,
Thank you, Sarah.
Wow! Powerful story and powerful writing! May I share a link to this in soc media?
Of course, Suzanna. I'd appreciate that. x
Thank you for writing this. It's so powerful and human and important and valuable- I'm glad you faced the fear of posting it and I hope that dissipates.
Thanks, Miriam. It'll probably dissipate eventually. In the meantime, I'm practising being comfortable with discomfort!