To All The Boys Who’ve Harassed Me Before
By: Ella Figg
Tags: Women, Self, Equality, Feminism, Society

Dear park man,

Long time no see. We didn’t know each other long. But you saw me running through the park. You took the time to shout at me so I knew how hot I looked.

Yet when I didn’t respond to your “compliment”, you suddenly changed your mind.

Thank you for letting me know how fat my ass was, I’m sure you are an expert on them since you obviously see an ass every time you look in the mirror.

Dear gent who liked my red dress more than courtesy,

While walking down a hallway that connected the mall to the library, you passed me and took notice of my bright red sundress.

“Sexy,” you said, eyeing me up and down with a smirk.

I ignored you and kept walking. The last words I heard, aimed at my retreating back were, “Fucking bitch.”

Dear dude who couldn’t take a hint,

I was 16, turning pages in a book on the public bus. You had been sitting a few seats away but came over to ask me what I was reading. I answered with a smile then returned to my book.

That smile sealed my fate, and you assumed I desired your attention and probing questions about my relationship status for the rest of the ride. The truth is I would rather have read my book than have you exclaim how shocked you were that I didn’t have a boyfriend despite my sexy body.

Dear grocery store groper,

At the grocery store, I stopped in an aisle and reached down to grab some cereal. You took that moment of vulnerability to grab my butt. I shot up shocked, too surprised to make a scene.

I knew lions attack giraffes who get caught leaning down for a drink of water, but you sir, are not a wild animal and had the power to control your actions; you decided not to.

Dear extremely creepy boys on the bus,

11 pm, I’m on the bus, waiting to go home after a long day of restaurant work. All I want to do is relax. I can’t though. You two boys, who sound a little inebriated, keep trying to draw me into a conversation.

I make it clear I want to be left alone.

However it is just you two, myself, and the bus driver, so you don’t relent. After several minutes of ignoring you both, you decide to make fun of my nose, face, and whatever else you feel privileged enough to have an opinion on.

I’m sitting in the front of the bus, near the bus driver, who looks at me sympathetically.

When I pull the cord for my stop, he asks me quietly, “Do you live near here?”

“I’m about 5 blocks up,” I answer.

The bus driver stops. The boys get off the bus first through the back door. Before I can disembark, I’m instructed to sit down. The doors quickly close behind you boys.

The driver drives the extra 5 blocks, letting me out at a non-designated stop. I never got that bus driver’s name, but I’ve never forgotten their face. Nor have I forgotten the feeling of dread I experienced when I saw you were getting off at the same stop as I.

Dear night creeper,

While walking home from a friend’s house in the dimly-lit darkness of a quiet suburban neighborhood, I saw you walking toward me on the sidewalk. I resisted the urge to cross the street and stayed the course.

Passing mere inches from you, I heard you say, “Good evening.”

I reflexively replied, “Hello.” I kept walking.

It was only after a minute I realized I could still hear your footsteps loudly echoing on the concrete, mingling with my own. You had changed directions and now were following me. I began to walk faster, you increased your pace as well. I gripped my car keys in my fingers, getting ready to run the last stretch of road to my house.

Just then I saw a neighbor walking her dog, further ahead, and across the street.

I shouted her name, not caring if I woke the neighbors. I ran over to pet the large chocolate lab. She sensed the panic beneath my voice and saw me look over my shoulder. You had resumed your original direction.

That chocolate lab was a cuddly creature and wouldn’t hurt a fly.

But you didn’t know that, and I’m thankful for that bit of luck.

Dear every person reading this who has ever been harassed while going about their day,

Know you are not alone. If you speak out, you will find others who have similar stories. These letters are just some of my own experiences. There are many more I did not write about, and there will continue to be more in the future until society makes changes.

Luckily, we have the power to fight for that cultural shift.