I was back in my town after a long period of living abroad. In the first two days, while walking in the street, at least 3 men screamed things at me, ranging from “Hello!” in a flirtatious way to the typical whistling of “admiration”. None of them were acquaintances nor did I indicate I wanted any type of verbal contact with them.
My name is Noura and I’m 18 years old from Morocco. I’m a university student and sice university is far from home it takes me an hour to get there by taking 3 taxis or 2 hours by taking the bus.I started being sexually harassed when I was only 12 years old. I remember very clearly when I was in eight grade and I was coming home from school, there was this guy who commented about my breasts, I also remember very clearly how all the boys and men stared at my back not just me but every girl who passed by them, This happened back when I was in middle school I was 12 or 13, now I’m a university student and this still happens.Not long ago I was going to university and two boys walked by and grabbed my shirt’s collar, I was very scarred after that I got social anxiety and I didn’t leave home for two weeks. Not long after I was again going to university then a man started calling me he was like, look at me, just look at me for one second, I thought it was important, then he said, wow you’re gorgeous I wanna spend just one night with you so I can die in peace. That was so disgusting and I couldn’t tell my mom or dad about it. I spent the whole holiday at home about 4 months, I never went out for even once. Now when I go to university I ask my dad to drop me off, but like this I can only avoid those who are in the streets, but there are also many in the same college with me. I hope one day this would change, because I don’t wanna see girls experiencing all this.
I’m 19 and use crutches to walk. As I was walking down the street, a middle-aged man shouted to his group of male friends ”there’s one for you. She can’t get away.”
I’m a 17 year old girl that tries hard to balance being a healthy teen, every day being one step closer to fulfilling my dreams and living life to the fullest. Trying to fit everything into 24h is hard, so not everyone gets to see my “instagram 17 year old of 2017” every day. I am into football (or soccer) and exactly because my topic of conversation is usually not my love life and boy crushes, more than a few members in my family ask if I am gay. Nearly all boys in my class, if I happen to participate in a conversation about football, value my opinion as long as I agree with them. As soon as I say the words “well, I disagree with that” -God forbid, a girl disagrees- my opinion is worthy of nothing but trash. When I told my mum I want to be actively involved in ending gender inequality, she shut me down by saying “Hari, what inequality you’re talking about? We’ve come such a long way, stop making a fuzz about it”. When I complain about the gender pay gap, I am told it doesn’t exist. And when I dare to say that my Math teacher jokes are sexist (“Why doesn’t a woman need a clock? Because the kitchen will have one for sure”), and insist on the seriousness of ‘banter’, I am treated as a “triggered feminist”. Tired of being reading about or experiencing assault in every day life, being a woman should be nothing less of a gift.
When I was 15, I spent a lot of time at my high school boyfriend’s house because I liked him, his mom was nice to me, and I hated my own house. Over time I started to feel more and more uncomfortable, for a reason I didn’t even understand at first. It wasn’t my boyfriend who was a year older than me… it was his LITTLE brother. The brother might have been 10 years old when my boyfriend and I first got together. This kid wasn’t an angel to begin (huge Grand Theft Auto fan and swore more in a week than I had in my life) with, but over the next two years he became a total creep. This kid would pretend to jerk off towards me. A quick hand thrusting, followed by a hand explosion. He did this thing, towards me, nearly EVERYDAY. It wasn’t even like a secret thing. It was just thing he did, like the way some people use a lot of hand expressions when they talk. And there could be 3 other people in the room and he would still do it. He would walk by, stop, do it, and walk away. Or end a conversation that way. At first I ignored it. Or laughed it off. After all, he was just a kid. But he got older, and I got older, and I started to understand how gross and wrong it was. Eventually, after at least a whole year of this, I called up my boyfriend and tried to explain to him my feelings. At first he tried to say it was nothing. Then I burst into tears, told him it was sexual harassment, and I would breakup with him if he didn’t make is brother stop. He did make his brother stop, who proceeded to be more of a jerk in less offensive ways. I’m 27 years old now, and I still can’t forget how disturbing it was.
Hi, I’m 20 and I live in Italy. By now, I’ve been catcalled, followed, verbally abused from when I was 15. I’ve tried to talk about it to my family and friends and everyone just tells me to not make a fuss about it, or that “boys will be boys”, or not to notice and go on with my life. I am so frustrated and anxious about this that I’m thinking about not having children because I’m scared of the world they are going to live in. I feel defeated and don’t really know how to face all of this. Thanks for reading me.