attacking their ego could get me killed

I'm Just a Girl

TW: Mention assault and refers to SA

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“Why didn’t you just-”

Why didn’t I what?
Scream?
Turn a man down with a slap?
Put an inappropriate boy in his place?
Tell the guy at the mall to shove it?

I meet boys, men, and women who never understand why I walk away with a smile or offer a white-lie excuse like “I have a boyfriend” when I’m approached by a stranger. A confused look flickers over their once curious glance by the time I finish telling them about the recent interaction.

I can already guess the words about to spill from their mouths—they almost always begin with:

“Why didn’t you just-”

Look, I know when to stand up for myself.

I wouldn’t give a smile to a creep hitting on me at a restaurant—I know how to read the room. Like, if I were in public—at a bar with friends—yeah, I might give a guy a slap if he touched my rear. I’d fume, anger would shoot through my eyes, and I’d swiftly turn—ready to pop him a new one.

It’s the times when I’m less protected—when I’m the only one around who I can depend on to back me up—that I have to think strategically, even if that means playing nice when I don’t want to.

For example, one of the most dangerous places for a woman is a gas station. Many people don’t think about it because it’s such a normal part of life, but that’s when most women are guaranteed to get out of their car alone—which makes them an easy target.

When I get gas, I am hyper-aware of the people around me. I can feel the presence of a creep the moment his body turns in my direction—his ill intent brewing beneath the surface. My cheeks heat up, my skin begins to crawl, and the number of gallons seems to tick by slower by the second. I lean my back against the car, one hand resting on the pepper spray I carry on my keychain.

When our eyes lock and a man begins to walk toward me with purpose—my body tenses. I am now fully alert, watching his every move—from the way he walks to the placement of his finger around his necklace. I can feel eyes forming in the back of my head, and suddenly I can see in all directions—searching for help, a witness, an observer, or worse—an accomplice.

Recently, my sister plopped down on the bed beside me and told me about a man who walked up to her car and asked her out. He was an older man, and she’s eighteen. She smiled and said no—politely turning him down. He pushed again, asking, “What? Do you have a boyfriend?”

And my sister—who is never one to lie—said, “Yes, I do.”

She felt uneasy in the moment. She had lied about her name, her age, and who she was.
Not because she’s a liar,
not because she took the “easy way out”—
but because she was protecting herself.

The people who love to ask the “Why didn’t you just—” questions, I find, are often the ones who’ve never truly feared for their lives before.

Maybe their view of the world just hasn’t been tainted yet.

TW: Assault

For me, it happened when I was a teenager. I was standing by the exit of the food court (Mall), when a random man came up to me, pushed me against the wall before choking me and feeling me up.

While it was happening, I locked eyes with a mother who had two young children beside her—her eyes held a saddened look, but she never stood up, never called out for help. She just watched me—pinned against the wall by a stranger. His friend stood behind him, watching, as he leaned into my ear and whispered, “You’re my b*tch now.”

I was only fourteen, waiting to be picked up by my mom.

We adapt to keep ourselves alive.

Ironically, this is just one of the simpler stories I’m actually comfortable sharing online; there are plenty more where that came from. Stories that happened to me, to my friends, and to many people I’ve personally met. Real things—the kind that can keep you up at night, make you never trust a public pool bathroom, or never want to let your children leave the house.

The world we live in is truly dangerous.

There isn’t always a safe moment to slap a stranger who might not be above hitting me back. When I turn down a man I don’t know, I risk picking a fight with someone twice my size—isn’t that something we’re all taught not to do?

What happens when it’s over the fact that I refuse to go on a date, give him my number, or worse—have s*x with him? It’s a risk to bite back, to hurt their ego, or make them feel less than what they believe they are.

So, why didn’t I just—?

Well, because attacking their ego could get me killed.

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I also have another page called Modern Psycho! I think it’s important to share information, opportunities to learn, and new perspectives for reflection. This blog also provides a theological perspective—one that combines science and spiritual understanding of the mind.

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