To the man in the street who harassed me yesterday – you changed me.
From the moment I saw you I immediately started evaluating the potential threat – because that’s what we women have to do. I decided to continue on my walk because what are the chances of you being a threat to this middle aged lady? It was a mistake in judgement. You engaged me in conversation with a question that required me to stop. It all seemed genial enough at the start. You told me where you were from, that you were just visiting my little village by the sea and were enjoying the sun. I got a feeling fairly early on that you were trying to keep me there and your friend disappeared suddenly. I felt my whole body become alert and my mind was making a million calculations. You asked me questions about my marital status. I told you I was married. Happily so. You told me your age. I said “I’m old enough to be your Mum.”. You said your Mum was 50. As it happens, so am I, and I laughed and told you that – hoping that it might give you pause. It didn’t. You pressed on asking me if I’d ever cheated on my husband. I told you I hadn’t and that I wasn’t that sort of person. At this point my eyes were swivelling, looking for other people, hoping against hope someone would pass by. They didn’t. You invited me onto the beach – told me no one would see us. I kept my voice light, my face set so as to try not to show you my rising panic or any anger, so as not to trigger you into action. When you said to me, your face changing from smiling to deadly serious “I could hurt you and I know you’d love it.” my blood felt like it had been replaced with ice water. My heart rate increased dramatically and my stomach twisted with panic. I was trying to evaluate which houses might have people in them. Most of the ones around I knew to be holiday lets, and most are empty right now. I did the best I could by saying I was on my way to visit friends up ahead and had to go. I wished you well, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t follow me. The moment I was out of your sight-line I hid. My hands were shaking as I took out my phone and desperately dialled my husband. It took me 3 attempts to raise him & I could hear your voice nearby. In the end my husband raced to my rescue and I was safe. It took me a few hours to recover though – the adrenaline seemed to have quite an effect on me. I haven’t been out for a walk since but I will. It’s just that you’ve reminded me that there’s always a chance that I might encounter someone like you again and I’m going to change my behaviour because of that.
So even though “nothing happened” it did. I’m different now.