I Was Lucky, But Most Women Aren't

(Warning: This is kind of a more intense post that involves references to physical and sexual trauma. Just be advised)

I had walked out of the gym into the evening air, feeling pretty good after a decent workout. I saw my car, only about a 100 feet away and headed over to it. It was dark and some people were walking about, so I walked quickly to my car. I jumped into my car and set my bag down in the passenger seat, making sure I had everything before I left. Suddenly, I heard a groan. I quickly turned to look out my car window. 

And there he was. 

And suddenly, all my fears and horror stories of women being attacked flooded my mind and panic arose in my chest. 

His hand was on my window and I instinctively locked the car, staring at him, not knowing what to do. He groaned again and I could tell by his shrunken face, messy beard, and  disheveled appearance that he was probably a junkie. No coherent words came forth, but just low and slow moans from his mouth as he continued to look at me. 

Panic was rising higher and higher in me. "I have to get out. I have to get out of here now." I tried quickly turning on my car, but for some reason, the car alarm went off and I had to disable it. Thanks to my tricky alarm system, I realized I'd have to unlock the car in order to turn it on. "But if I unlock it, then he may be able to get in." And I shuddered at the thought of him being able to open the car door.

I heard a louder groan and stared at him as he pointed a finger at me and pushed it on the window. He then lifted his other hand and made a gesture. My eyes widened. I had only seen that gesture made by some males as a crude joke or in sexual references. My stomach dropped. He was asking me for a hand job. 

Frozen in fear, I just stared at him. He moaned louder and pressed his finger to the window. He then out spread his hand and pressed all five fingers to the window. Was he signaling that he'd give me $5? The sickening feeling in my stomach got worse. I shook my head and found myself yelling, "NO!! NO!!" He then just stared and as I looked at him, shaking my head; all I thought was, "Please don't have a gun. Please don't."

He continued to linger there for a few moments and I found myself, making up more plans to escape. I had a phone nearby. I began thinking about how fast I could quickly unlock my car and turn it on. Other ideas and plans began forming. And eventually, as I yelled a louder "NO!" he lifted his hand off my car window and began to slowly walk away towards the gym. I found myself quickly turning the car on and driving away back home.

And yet, I felt so gross, disgusted and scared.

It felt like I was covered in dirt and I wanted to wipe away the filth as fast as possible. I felt so weak and helpless. I wanted someone to protect me, to have jumped in and use their power to push the junkie away. I felt stupid in thinking I could walk in a parking lot at dark. When I had seen some shadowy figures, why had I assumed they were just other people walking to their cars? Why didn't I just walk back into the gym and wait? And a sickness hit my stomach. He had wanted a hand job. That was one of the first things he thought when he saw me. He didn't think about my life or who I was as a person. He just wanted the physical pleasure I could offer him.

I came home and told my sister, who quickly turned angry and said, "WHAT HAPPENED!?!" As I explained the story to her and got more upset, she quickly calmed down and said, "You're OK now though. Next time, call me." And at last, tears came to my eyes and I said, "I just wanted to have a good day. Why has this day been so crappy? Why me?" And my sister hugged me.

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It's been over a week since the incident and I've been able to process it and calm down. Of course, the lingering fear that someone may come up behind me still remains. I was already pretty cautious as a woman in those incidents, but now, there's an impending fear that won't leave me. And as I replay the incident in my head, I think about how lucky I was that nothing actually did happen. Yet, I feel worse when I think, "And what about all those women who do have something like that happen? They have experienced so much worse. I felt sick enough with that brief moment. But what about the women who aren't as lucky as me? What about the traumas and scars they experience?" 

And the horrifying thing is: incidents like these and much worse, happen often, on a daily basis. Some woman is stripped of her worth and told all she is good for is physical pleasure. It's terrifying.

And yet, they also begin to believe that it is somehow, all their fault.

I saw this temptation within myself. Especially as a few others found out about the incident and one of the comments was "Oh my gosh Hannah! You got to be smart! Come on." An anger burned up inside of me as I snapped back, "I'm not stupid! Walking in a parking lot isn't a stupid thing to do!" We angrily bantered back in forth, as the person's concern for me was evident, and yet, my already present frustration and guilt screamed their presence. My sister was the one who pipped up, "I'm pretty sure Hannah feels bad enough about this. She was the one who experienced it after all." 

My father found out and insisted that I next time ask one of the guys from the gym to walk me out to my car. "Hannah, they're all doing some kind of martial arts or kick boxing. Trust me. The guys will be more than happy to do it. They'd love the chance to fight off some guy for real and protect you."

That brought me to the next realization: we have become lax in taking care of one another. Instead of walking the other person to their car, we sit on our couch and say 'bye'. Instead of walking up to a front door and knocking, we stay in the car and honk till the person comes outside. We don't offer to pick each other up, but instead say "See you there." When someone says, "I'm walking home," we just wave as it was nothing, not asking for a text or phone call when the person gets home. 

So men, walk your female friends to their cars, especially at night. Women, watch out for one another, and stay in groups if you can. Males, also watch out for one another, because you can also get jumped or mugged just as easily.

And women, it's OK to ask for help. In a world and culture where we're often told to be "independent and strong", we must fight against the lies and step up and ask for help, especially from our male counterparts. We can be strong and independent, but the world is much bigger and stronger than our individual selves. That is why we must ban together to fight against the world, otherwise, surely, we will fall.

And men, you must ask for help as well. For the most part, women probably won't be able to offer up physical protection (it's just how it is). But, we will help you in other valuable ways: emotional and mental support, providing you with care and encouragement, and showing you love and value, no matter what you do.

Again, we all have to be in this together.