You Are Not Overreacting
Post-Grad Community Stories | 24 March 2021
You can find the published piece here.
A crowd of about 1,000 defied a coroanvirus ban on gatherings to pay their respects to murder victim Sarah Everard in Clapham Common, South London. Getty Images, 2021
*Trigger Warning: this piece contains mentions of public sexual harassment. It is written from my own perspective and shares my personal experience.
I am sure the shocking news about Sarah Everard has been weighing down on a lot of us, hearts heavy to lose yet another woman to gendered violence - especially from those who are supposed to keep us safe. Sparking a national outcry, the raw footage capturing the horrific manhandling at the peaceful vigil held at Clapham Common shakes even those who were not physically there. This was where Sarah Everard was last seen, and now it is also a place where police have abused their power. The flowers shiver delicately in the night, quiet after the commotion.
As a woman, it is very easy to forget that all the little things we do to “protect ourselves” are of a twisted norm. We shouldn’t need to feel anxious in the way we dress, of a shadowed street, of public transport even in the daytime. For the outermost layer of what we wear to be that of a veil of fear. The cool night air on our skin shouldn’t bring with it the pre-anxiety of men lingering where they should not, but likely will. It is absolutely Not overreacting when you feel uncomfortable from the behaviour of someone in public. It is so easy to forget that you have a right to own how you feel. It is a tragedy that this is a shared fear amongst women, it is a tragedy that we lost Sarah Everard that night, and it is a tragedy that the police have failed to investigate countless disappearances of Black women as well as those in other minority groups.
As an international student, there is the inevitable alertness of being in a foreign country, especially when encountering an entirely different culture. But being a young woman on top of that means I do not feel completely safe anywhere. Being groped at the club is the norm, getting my skirt lifted up by drunk men and laughing as if it was just some fun - brushing it off because I thought I was overreacting, and didn’t want to ‘ruin the mood’. It wasn’t surprising for a man to stand at a hair’s distance from my face when the tube was practically empty and question in my head if I was imagining my skirt moving. It was with a fatigued alarm that I realised a man was taking my picture, his screen illuminated in the reflection of the grimy train window. It was easier to forget these little incidents that happened to me and move on.
The only time I retaliated was when I saw it happen to someone else. I got so angry in the moment by a man for getting too close to harass a friend that I pushed him back hard and told him to go away, predator. He scoffed and laughed like I needed to lighten up. That was one of the last times I went to a club. What if something worse had happened? It left me feeling like I did something wrong and I decided I did not want to feel that feeling anymore. But I enjoy the jumbled dancing. I enjoy the electrifying mood. I just can’t enjoy the veneer of real danger.
But it isn’t just being at those places. It is everywhere. It is in the air… it is hearing your own footsteps on the dark crunchy road, without music to relieve the constant anxiety in order to hear any foreign approaches. The subdued streetlights illuminate a faked sense of hope, I am hopping from bulb to bulb, to avoid the lava, the shadows, the supposed surprise attacks. It is knowing that taking the route home through the park at night is a real risk but doing it anyway, chanting - surely nothing will happen, surely! A crazed belief that there is someone up there in the tantalising clouds who is looking out for me. I lament for those women who have experienced or are lost to physical, emotional, financial, domestic violence. I cannot even imagine the pain they had and have to go through. I pray for their peace and power.
“We are not overreacting. It is so easy to forget that this norm we live with is twisted, abnormal, created with a toxic misogyny that is deeply rooted in the media and the language used within it.”
We’ve heard it so many times that women have been portrayed as sexual objects, and with it, a certain belittlement, that these absurdities have lost all meaning. I am ashamed to admit that it was ingrained in me to brush off the less-than-safe feelings I felt, but that it was also easy to do the same with wanting to hear about other peoples’ pain. It hurts to know there are endless others suffering from gendered violence and, according to national statistics, live in a society where a woman is killed by a partner or ex-partner every three days. It is too easy to fall into a desensitisation for issues that need the most sensitivity.
Does it take a highlighted incident as drastic as the tragedy of Sarah Everard to wake most of us up from desensitisation, to form a national outcry? In recent times, where the pain of others seep through left and right, perhaps yes. But it was empowering to see so many stand together in solidarity, in her brilliant life source, and for the dark night she should have been allowed to walk home. The “shame on you” chants ring in the air as the neon officers scuffled along, the mourners’ voices and flashes capturing their capturing of women out of the area. It is a Privilege to believe the police will protect you. It is a real privilege.
At 21:30 The phone flashes illuminate the grounds and a sea of unity arises. It does not highlight the shadows in between like some uniformed streetlights. It shines together with a hope that justice can be brought to victims, and laws can be changed. It is the glittering glimpses in humanity like this that resembles beautifully, a lifeline for those in the dark.
It is so easy to forget that your reactions are valid. I want to reiterate that It is Okay to Not Feel Okay with harassment in public. You are not overreacting, being dramatic, or imagining it when you feel violated, no matter how minor you may think the incident was. It is in my hope that we can first recognise these feelings that we tend to brush off as serious, and call out harassment when we see it happening to others. It is only with a certain unity as women, as all those who experience oppression as women (including trans, intersex, cis, non-binary, and gender nonconforming people), and with our male allies that we can incite a ripple of change - to finally light a safe way home.