Tag Archives: bus

Jane Doe

It happened on a school bus. I was a freshman in college and this older boy who was drunk sat next to me. He told me that I was hot but being gay, I had no sexual interest in him. However, I couldn’t vocalize my sexuality because I was deeply closeted. He started to touch me and get closer and I wanted him to stop. I just froze. I couldn’t speak, move, or do anything. Finally when the bus ride ended I ran off and my “friend” told me that I wanted it and that I should just get over it. My “friend” watched me get sexually assaulted and she told me that I wanted it. Today a new friend told me how she is friends with the man who assaulted me and asked me what I thought of him. I hate that even though this was two years ago it still makes me uneasy when his name is brought up. I don’t like the darkness he brought into my life even if he didn’t remember it.

Emily Owen

In July I was on my way back from work, sitting on the top of a double decker bus. It was only myself and two men on the top deck. They kept cat calling, yelling “blondie” and telling me they’d “be all over me like a rash”. I ignored them, didn’t look up and began to scroll through my phone by way of a distraction. They came right up behind me and started shouting “are you fucking deaf or something”. I got off, continuing to ignore them and when I walked passed the bus they spat at me out of the window, and through their beer cans at me. I found myself questioning whether I was looking more put together that day, or had made more of an effort with my appearance. And then thinking this was incident was particularly bad because I wasn’t “asking for it” as I was hungover, wearing a hoodie, some leggings and hadn’t brushed my hair in about two days. And then I thought that should make no difference at all, why should it matter, and why am I trying to place some of the blame onto myself, by thinking that if I had made more effort with my appearance, I was somehow asking for someone to do that.


A few months ago, I got on the bus and took my seat. My seat was significantly reclined. I was in the process of settling myself into my chair when the man behind me pressed the button under my arm rest and moved my chair forward. This man did not even have the decency to ask me to recline my chair forward. He decided to pretend like I didn’t exist. I wonder if I was a man, would he disregard me like he did.


On the bus I rode every day when a man would start harassing, I would tell him “no” in every way I could possibly imagine. “I don’t date,” “no,” “I AM A NUN” (Italy, so this was not uncommon), the only effective way to get a man to stop harassing was to tell him that I was 1.) married or 2.) dating someone. If that didn’t work, I’d say I was on my way to see “my husband.” I’m not married. I bought a cheap ring and started wearing it on the bus to deter creeps.


I was getting the bus on my own last night (around 7pm) to my running club. During the journey I noticed a man looking at me and sort of smiling. I thought nothing of it. When I got up to leave I walked down the bus and past him and as I did he reached out and tried to grab my arm and said something along the lines of “have a lovely week”. I mumbled thanks and got off the bus. It’s not the worst thing that could have happened and he probably didn’t mean any harm but it just annoys me that people don’t seem to think about the consequences of their actions. Staring at a woman who is alone on a bus and then trying to grab her arm when she gets off is going to make her feel uncomfortable at best or downright scared at worst. It’s just not needed and I found it creepy. Although it shouldn’t matter what I was wearing I’ll just add that I was wearing full-length black running leggings, a long t-shirt and a running jacket. Hair was scraped back and make up minimal.

Frances Bell

A man was sat down on the bus, reading his newspaper, when a woman got on and took the seat beside him. Clearly irritated by this, the man began to nudge her with his elbows under the pretence that he was just turning the pages of the paper. When she asked him to stop he told her “it isn’t my fault you are so fat; learn to take up less room.” He then continued to push against her, and when she told him to stop more firmly he said “shut your trap or I will give you a slap”. It was a difficult situation because had I shouted at the man this would have aggravated him perhaps endangering the woman further, so instead I tapped her on the shoulder and offered her the seat beside me. I worry what might have happened had I not done so, as everyone else seemed to be actively ignoring the situation, despite the man shouting very loudly.


I often wonder when I first encountered sexism, and it is almost sad that I can’t remember because there have been too many incidents. The one that sticks out for me was when I had just turned thirteen. I was on my way from school on the bus. I was standing in the aisle next to the seat my two friend’s were sitting in. A boy from an older grade walked past me and grabbed my butt. I waited for him to leave, and then I almost immediately told my friends what had happened. Both of them responded, telling me how lucky I was and how that was a sign of approval. I remember telling this story to countless of people and them all responding in the same way, and only a few years ago did I realize the awful nature of the incident and how women have become conditioned to think this is okay, or part of our everyday lives.


The other morning I was walking to work at 7:45am. I was tired. I didn’t have any make up on. I was wearing a baggy black t shirt, flared trousers and runners. I almost want to stop myself here because obviously, it doesn’t matter what I was wearing. what I’m trying to convey is that it was a day where i didn’t care what I wore or what I looked like. I wanted to be comfortable. A man made a sexual comment about me. Obviously this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Because I’m a woman. But I’ve noticed a trend. These men, (and every instance it is a man) say these comments just as there are past you. By the time you have registered what just happened they are metres away. Leaving you petty unequipped to confront them. They are taking so much power from women this way in one foul swoop. I turned to confront him but he was very far away. He had turned back to look at me, waiting for a response. I gave him the finger. Sometimes I’m not sure how to approach these situations. I feel like barking back an insult somehow only spurs on the idea to these bastards that the whole thing is just a fun game of wits and who can quickly think of a better put down. I almost cry with anger at the thought of how entitled these people seem to think they are to make comments about women who are simply being in public spaces. To me, it exposes a complete lack of respect and disdain some men have for the opposite sex. It’s infuriating, upsetting and wrong. A few weeks ago my friend and I were walking down the street and a bus driver in uniform made sexual comments about us. A bus driver. In uniform. Does this mean that if ever I’m on a bus alone late at night, I should be scared because a bus driver might rape me? Some might accuse me of over reacting here. But if this bus driver who obviously had no regard for my consent about being commented on, surely logically, he has no problem in disregarding my sexual consent. The rage.


I was out studying with a friend of mine and it was getting late. My ex who I still kept in touch with offered to send me home since we stay next to each other, and I agreed. My ex waited for me at the library and then we took the bus to where we stayed. I fell asleep on him after a long day and he started kissing my head which got a little out of hand. More than half way through the ride, I felt his hands in my shirt and I pushed it away. He just laughed and forced himself more into my shirt, I started struggling and pushing him away with more force. His hands snuck inside the cup of my bra and he started fondling my boobs. I stared at him angry, upset, violated and hurt. I slapped him and he just smiled at me. We walked together in the dark, I hugged my body tight, feeling disgusted with myself because it felt like it was my fault. I confronted him, he did not think he did anything wrong then I just left. I did not know who to tell, it felt like it was all my fault. I texted him and told him off again and he said he wanted to have a bit of fun with me because he was horny (fucking dumb imo). Ever since I have been scared. I have a fear of sleeping in the bus or even sharing the seat with someone in the bus, I just stand all the time. I still cringe and feel stained for something I did not do. I have trust issues and I fear that it will happen again. I still break down over it from time to time and I eventually told my parents. How do I get rid of this guilt?