
The Blame Game
WHENEVER I get catcalled, I would either (1) keep on walking as if I hadn’t been harassed, (2) look the offender in the eye with the hope of catching him off-guard, or (3) actually stop and call the offender off for thinking that proudly calling me “baby” with a nasty smile on his face would strengthen his fragile male ego.
Normally, I would go for option 3 simply because I want to make them feel that I am a strong woman who would not take any sort of bullying and harassment even if my appearance does not look like it.
But here’s the truth: I don’t feel empowered after answering these thugs back. I don’t think, “That’ll show him not to mess with women like me.” Instead, my chest would start hurting, and I’d think, “What if he runs after me? What if he waits for me later at ni...