When I was a masters student at university, I would use the uni gym; a couple of times I noticed one of the older academics – he was the Chair of my panel – looking at me when we were in the gym. I thought nothing of it at first (your eyes have to look somewhere!) but I would move to a different piece of equipment or different area & minutes later he would be nearby again, looking at me in my exercise gear. It made me feel that feeling…that icky feeling where you can’t say for certain that someone is doing something wrong, but it ~feels~ wrong.
I remember describing the situation later to a male friend who worked with me, a person who cared about me & in all other ways had looked out for me in the past. He immediately dismissed my version of events & gave the academic the benefit of the doubt, lightly admonishing me for not doing the same. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it, I’m sure he wasn’t being creepy”. I felt like there was no way to describe to him how a lifetime of these small interactions had led me to just ~knowing~ that it didn’t feel right or comfortable. That friend went on to become my partner & become much more understanding of his own sexist attitudes, but the incident always stuck with me – not necessarily the being watched at the gym, that memory probably would have faded into the background with the countless other creepy men interactions – but being so easily dismissed by a loved one in favour of a man he barely knew, in a situation he didn’t even witness.
