A note on street harassment.

I think I was around 14. Not that long ago when you put it on paper but in reality it feels like centuries ago. I was stood at the bus stop minding my own business, just waiting to go shopping with a few friends. With me stood a man and his son and we all awkwardly avoided eye contact and did the usual “bus stop routine”

I’d chosen to wear a brown dress with lace tights; lace floral tights to be exact because I liked them. I thought they looked great and didn't have any other connotations added on to them. Of course I didn't; I was 14.

As I stood waiting for the bus I had a grand total of 6 lorry horns and 2 whistles. It was mid-morning. I was 14.

I felt so embarrassed that as soon as I got to the shops with my friends I bought new tights and changed. I felt self-conscious all day. I had no idea what had started.

I’ll tell you why it feels like it happened centuries ago. It’s because I, like many other women have put up with it every single day. You got it right ladies and gentlemen; good old fashioned street harassment.

That day I felt like I’d done something wrong; like I shouldn't have been wearing those lace tights. Like the time I was wearing jeans and wellies because it was snowing; a group of guys hooted and cat called me as I was waking. “What am I doing now?” I wondered.

Everyone knows that teenagers go through stages of self-consciousness and wondering what their identity is, but after a while I thought; it’s not actually what I’m wearing, it’s my face.

That’s it, confidence shattered. I dyed my hair different colours to hide the fact I wore braces for five years, I suffered with terrible acne for years and my hair was thinning.  I hated, hated going out alone to wait for a bus or just walking on the street and I absolutely despised walking past a group of people my own age; specifically boys.

I was a perfectly happy, healthy young girl before this. Completely oblivious to the various pressures that I would face in just a few years. I finally found my own ‘style’ and realised I wasn’t this horrible, ugly beast these immature boys had made me think.  I was just a young woman trying to find her own identity.

I thought I’d escaped it when I finally bought my own car, yet it was only the other day I was driving along the bypass with the windows down and someone called me a “fucking whore” just because I was driving?! That one really baffled me.

Now when I hear a catcall or someone tells me I have a “nice arse” or that they “wouldn't forget a pair of legs like mine” or if someone makes a blowjob reference to me from their van, or the time I was called a “slut” when I’d finished university for the day, or the time that I was coming home from a lecture on feminism a taxi driver said he’d “do me just for my legs” to his fellow taxi drivers or the countless times I've been called a slag just for going about my daily business- I just ignore it.

I shouldn't I know, I should go right up to said man and tell him what a piece of shit he is, but frankly I just don’t have the energy. I don’t have the energy because like many other women it has happened so frequently I wouldn't even know where to start. For me it’s thankfully never reached physical contact nor have I felt that I’m in a compromising situation in terms of my safety but the sad truth is that a lot of women have.

It doesn't matter what I wore or what I was doing; some men just think because you’re walking outside and you have breasts and a vagina that you should become a victim of one of the most degrading things possible. I’m not stereotyping all men and I know they don’t all do it.

The most mind blowing thing about street harassment is that I posted this status about how I’d contacted a company to tell them what pieces of shit they were hiring when they made a blow job reference to me from their company van.

I received a lot of support but I was also told I should “take it as a compliment” or they’re just “LADS” or “what do I expect to happen?” –Not to be publicly harassed would be the first thing?

The worst part about these people is that they have no idea what long term effect it has on women; the media has a huge part to play in the way women are now perceived but to this day I worry about what I wear when I go out and not in a “do I feel great, comfortable and nice in this?” more in a “will I be left alone today?” way. You can sit and blame advertising for the pressure on women, but as long as these horrible, ignorant men are around doing what they do; this problem will not be fixed.

Sian Hodkin, 19.