I had a great first day at my internship. Of course, I got a little lost getting there; I managed to take up a good chunk of the extra half hour I had allotted in anticipation of mistakes made from being a first-time DC Metro user. When I finally managed to find the office, and get settled in, my restlessness from first day anxiety turned into more of a nervous energy, which was soon put to good use. By 3:30, the day was already over. I felt I had learned a lot, met a lot of new people, and left with a positive attitude.

I felt dignified stepping onto the platform. I had completed my first day, and was genuinely excited about returning back. I felt proud that I had moved to a new city, explored a few neighborhoods, made a few friends, and managed to feed myself for the past few days on my own, I was adult-ing! On the ride home, I was relieved and confident sitting on the train. Those sentiments, however, soon faded.

I was sitting toward the back with an open seat next to me. The train was not crowded, there were multiple other open seats. However, one young man, around 30 decided my adjacent seat had his name on it. I had noticed him peering at me for a few minutes, so I did not engage as he slowly walked over. He politely asked if he could sit, and with my guard already up I cautiously said yes. He politely showed me a clipboard with a laminated sheet of paper and asked me to take it. After my equally polite refusal he became insistent. To avoid agitation, I took the material.

He asked first “do you work” and I responded “yes.” Next, he asked “are you making a lot of money,” to which I replied “no, it is an internship.” He followed with “do your parents give you money,” and I hesitantly responded “some.” He then urged me to read the clipboard he gave me, instead I replied with a monotone pitch “no thank you,” and stared ahead. I knew that this person wasn’t going to leave me alone, but I didn’t know how to get rid of him.

After more of his insistence, and my continued forward stare and one word answers, I attempted again to hand him back the clip board this time firmly saying, “I’m not interested, thank you.” He then got closer, leaned into me, and with a demeaning tone asked, “oh is it because you got a man, that’s why you’re so rude to me.”

I didn’t bother to respond, but continued to reach the clipboard out for him to take, followed by his increasing pressure to look it over. After this interaction already lasting two metro stops, we were approaching the third, and I could see he was getting bored of my lack of reaction and engagement.

He finally took back his clip board, but I could still feel his gaze. I looked over, and saw his outreached hand. To avoid further altercation, I quickly attempted to briefly follow through with the handshake and reached mine out to meet his. However, he refused to release me, even whispering “I’m not letting go.”

Without a glance towards him I forcefully pulled against his grip and sternly replied “please let go of my hand, thank you.” After lingering for another second, he proceeded to exit the train right as the doors were closing, laughing on his way out.

Immediately upon his departure I thought ugh, that was gross, and I was glad it was over. My heart rate had peaked a bit, and I could feel the palm of my hands and my underarms perspiring as my body responded to my brain's alert signals. Although he had left me on edge, I didn’t have to worry about anything too serious happening, we were surrounded by other passengers.

I then peered up at my fellow riders. Everyone on the train was oddly staring at me. Of course, they had seen and heard what just happened. So, I stared back, met their gazes, and one after another looked away. Their silence felt like dismissal. Why did I suddenly feel in the wrong?

I looked back down. I felt embarrassed, I felt insecure, I felt out of place, I felt weak and I felt young.

I’ve experienced a lot of harassment like this before, people deal with it on a daily basis. From catcalls, to being followed, to having my butt grabbed, in daylight with lots of people around, it is not out of the norm to have something like this occur. I haven’t come to expect things like this to happen, more so I just don’t question or dwell on it, and I brush it off when it does.

However, this time I felt different. Characteristic of these situations I felt treated like an object, dehumanized as a piece of property to be claimed by a male counterpart, nothing short of my normal reaction. The difference this time is that I felt shame. What got to me was the others reaction to the situation.

I had felt professional and adult in my work clothes, with my hair tied back, and a bit of makeup on, I didn’t feel like the 19-year-old I really am. But after the altercation I felt foolishly naive for thinking I was grown up. Everyone had looked at me with a sort of condescending pity. I have no reason to be embarrassed. I know I’m a mature, intelligent, confident, and strong adult woman, but the whole situation made me feel like a silly young girl who got teased on the school bus.