The Everyday Sexism Project exists to catalogue instances of sexism experienced on a day to day basis. They might be serious or minor, outrageously offensive or so niggling and normalised that you don’t even feel able to protest. Say as much or as little as you like, use your real name or a pseudonym – it’s up to you. By sharing your story you’re showing the world that sexism does exist, it is faced by women everyday and it is a valid problem to discuss.

If you prefer to e-mail me at laura@everydaysexism.com I can upload your story for you instead. Follow us on Twitter (and submit entries by tweet) at @EverydaySexism.

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Lily

In Year 7 a group of girls got called in at break and told that they need to wear more appropriate socks because the ones they were wearing had their ankles showing which was apparently distracting. SOCKS. 1- it’s not the fucking Victorian times I don’t think ankles are distracting. 2- THESE GIRLS ARE 12 YEARS OLD WHO EVER IS GETTING DISTRACTED IS DISGUSTING. And this kind of thing happened again I’m Year 9, all the girls doing pe were told that they can’t wear leggings that have any sort of mesh because we ‘have male teachers who will get distracted’. EXCUSE ME. IF A MALE TEACHER CANT CONTROL HIMSELF AROUND 14 YEAR OLD GIRLS THEN HE SHOULDNT BE WORKING IN SCHOOL.

Mindy

I was raped at 17 by a colleague double my age. 4 years later and I have had 4 officers assigned to the case after retiring or illness. Each time they left the force I wasn’t informed. This meant months were wasted waiting on replies from numbers and emails no longer in use. Resulting in me having to repeatedly chase up the force. After making a complaint to the police the responded saying they did everything right. They only just spoke to my rapist for the first I’ve last month … 4years later. At the time my boss didn’t believe me because I came in work the next day (despite hiding in the toilet and having a panic attack for most my shift). I was then told by my boss that conversing with my colleagues about it could result in me being accused of deformation of the company. I’m soon going into 5 years of this process and it’s so slow and angering. I feel failed by the police. Especially when the head of our local police was charged with rape himself. The whole system seems set out to fail me . It’s do disheartening.

Kendall

My name is Kendall, and stepping into the tech world after college, I was unprepared for the pervasive sexism I would encounter. Despite my qualifications, I found myself constantly having to prove my worth as my male colleagues dismissed my ideas and belittled my abilities. Over time, the discrimination became more overt, with promotions going to less qualified men and inappropriate comments about my appearance becoming commonplace. Refusing to be silenced, I spoke up against the sexism, rallying allies within the company to push for change. Through perseverance and determination, I rose to a leadership position, spearheading initiatives to empower women in the workplace. Though the journey was challenging, I emerged stronger, using my experiences to fuel my passion for creating a more equitable world, one where gender does not determine one’s opportunities or treatment.

Anon

I am a secondary school teacher, during one of my planning periods I could hear a trainee teacher struggling with the behaviour of a class. This particular class, GCSE age, boy heavy could be rowdy at times. My intention was to stand in the room and assist with behaviour while the trainee focussed on teaching the lesson. As I stood in the doorway to survey the situation a boy loudly wolf whistled at me. I was shocked, I was a member of staff, a person and yet this boy thought it was acceptable to further disrupt the learning and disrespect me. Thankfully, the schools response was brilliant. They launched an investigation straight away, found the culprit and suspended him. Before he returned to school I was reassured by senior members of staff including the headteacher that this wasn’t tolerated and my safety was paramount. When the boy returned to school he gave me a formal apology. I don’t blame him, in fact now when we pass in the corridor he always says hello and is polite. What I do blame is the lack of support and education our young people are given about everyday sexism. As an educator, I know individual teachers try their best to prevent and tackle sexism but there is no wider support from society. Sexism is still largely accepted and our young people are falling victim to it.

Iz

I was 16 and my 23 year old Co worker would constantly make sexual remarks to me. He dropped me home once after work and asked me such sexual questions and said he wanted to be the seat I sat on, I never got a lift from him again. I’m 24 and I still think about this.

Anais

I was about thirteen, dating a guy in the year above at school and we were hanging out at a park with some friends when he tried to put his hand down my trousers to which i told him i didn’t want to and he assured me it was ok and nobody was looking. The next week at school, suddenly everyone knew and was spreading it around and i was taunted about it. People even told my older brother. It took me until i was 19 entering my first relationship since then to understand why i felt uncomfortable when anyone touched me. I still have only ever told two people about this.

Anon

I was assaulted by a friend at a party even after saying no, he was dating a friend at the time and I felt bad because I felt like I went behind her back. But I was taken advantage of.

Georgia

I’m 16 and at some point I’m going to prom, I want to wear a suit, not to be different or anything I just don’t like wearing dresses or anything like that. my dad is cool with this and even got me a suit for his engagement party for him and his gf, but when I ask my mum she says she “wants me to wear a dress for her” I’m praying my prom lands on one of my dads days so I don’t have to fight my mum on wearing something which makes me feel comfortable.

Eva

I booked an hour long massage as a treat to myself. I spent the entire hour questioning if the masseuse was being inappropriate – did he really touch me there? Had I imagined it? Am I overreacting? I’m sure he’s not meant to touch me there? Am I being overly sensitive? On the bus ride home I realised I had been assaulted. My whole body ached the next day because I’d panicked and physically frozen. But I still wouldn’t let my Mum contact the police about the incident, because of course I would never want to upset him. He knew where I lived. I wouldn’t want to ruin his career. What if he has a family? I’m sick of protecting and excusing men for their disgusting abusive behaviour.

Fiona

How many words do I have? I’m approaching 60, so there’s a fair bit in there, at least, until I became invisible… maybe a benefit of menopause after all. From being propositioned, age 15, by a famous musician in his dressing room (I didn’t reach 4’10” at my tallest, nor did I wear make up, or make any effort to look older, so I don’t think there was any doubt I was underage), to the daily battle of being ‘frigid’ within a 20-year relationship, with a truly kind man (pre-#metoo; perhaps if we’d survived long enough, that may have helped me to explain in a way that would’ve left me feeling that I had a right to say no?). Having just heard about this site, an hour or so before International Women’s Day 2024, I read a little about sexual assault on public transport, which led me to two of my own memories; each of which has an extra part to it, that compounds the initial ‘assault’. In the first, I was in my late teens, on a train, and the man opposite me, I’d guess in his 40s or 50s, decided to wank all the way from London to Birmingham. Being young, and naive, I believed that the best way to manage the situation, was to completely ignore him. To read my book, look out of the window, anything but show any sign whatsoever that I had noticed him, much less understood what he was doing. On my return home, I told my brother what had happened, and was told in return that I was clearly enjoying it; I must have been, or I would’ve got up and moved. My protests and arguments that I believed I was doing the opposite of what he wanted; that I was not showing any fear, or anything at all, not even acknowledging his presence, were belittled and laughed at. For years afterwards, I kept asking myself, was this true? Was there some hidden part of me that wanted to encourage this man to masturbate in front of me? The second event took place a couple of years later, in my early 20s, interrailing in Europe. The train was going from Brindisi to northern Italy. It was one of those old-style trains like the one in the Harry Potter film, with carriages made up of compartments, and finding an empty one, I managed – standing on a seat – to get my rucksack into an overhead rack, and sat down to enjoy the journey. Shortly after the train left, a man came in, and with 7 vacant seats, he sat right next to me, between me and the door. Within moments, his hand was on my knee. I lifted it and removed it. He put it back and I decided it was time to leave. I got up to retrieve my bag from the rack opposite, and he came up behind me, grabbing both of my breasts. Luckily, I was able to reach the bag; I think a strap must have been hanging down, and grabbing it, and using the gravity in my favour, I was able to swing it down onto him, pushing him back into the seat, at which point, I held the bag firmly, and kicked one (or maybe both?) of his shins, maybe 10 or 12 times, as hard as I could manage before leaving the compartment in search of one more favourably multi-occupied. For many years, I would, on occasion, tell this story with a certain pride in my swiftly enacted, and effectively aggressive and defensive actions (remember, I’m not and never was Amazonian in stature). And I always ended it with the same sentence… it was only a couple of years ago, that a friend pointed out to me how shocking – and wrong – that final sentence was; ‘it was my own fault for being in an empty carriage’. I had spent over 30 years, blaming myself, certain in my conviction that I should bear responsibility for what had happened, because I had dared to think, at the tender age of 21, and a few inches short of 5’ tall, that I should be allowed sit, alone, un-harassed in an unoccupied compartment of an Italian train carriage. And in all those years, I had never recognised that despite kicking his shins, I was still colluding with that man’s appalling and vile belief that he had a right violate my body. And nor had anyone else I’d ever told that story to.