So I was driving around with my boyfriend--because that's how we spend all our free time in smallish-town Texas--when I noticed a minivan with its emergency lights on near the mall, and a pregnant woman standing outside it. We pull over and decide to ask if everything was okay, so we get out of the car and approach the van.

A few seconds later, a truck pulls up. A few guys in their late teens/early 20s are blaring some crappy rap song that's probably popular nowadays, enjoying their evening with each other. But then their attention shifts.

"Hey, girl! Get over here!" one of them yells. I ignore it. "Come on!"

I start to walk away, while they keep shouting at my back.

This isn't the first time, and it's definitely not rare.

And for some reason, I'm even ashamed to be typing this and considering whether or not I should post it. Here are the thoughts that race through my head every time I'm verbally objectified by a stranger.

1. What the hell?

The initial shock is worth noting. It's a sense of "is this really happening?" quickly followed by the realization that it is. This is the pre-gutwrenching part, the part that gets your attention before the negativity sinks in.

2. Guys are assholes.

I hate thinking this because it's a lie. Most guys are just like girls--people. I hate that I immediately blame half the population for the behavior of three, but I can't help myself. And then I get mad at myself for being so judgmental. And then I get mad at them because they made me get mad at myself for something that they did.

3. Is it because of something I did?

My whole life, I was taught that what I was wearing and how I acted were the only determinants of whether or not I would be molested or raped. That's what I learned at school in religion class, and that's what I was told at home.

Now that I'm 19, I know that that was a lie and that the only person responsible for committing a crime or offense is the one committing the crime or offense. But the thought still lingers that maybe I walked or moved a certain way. Maybe they thought that I wanted to be noticed by them, or that I was begging to be the target of their attention. Maybe the fear and sadness that I feel are my own creation.

4. What should I do?

For about the first 10 seconds, I just stood there looking at them. It's like when you get in an argument and can't come up with a comeback in time, so you feel a little struck down and embarrassed. I felt like I should defend myself in some way, or that I needed to justify why I was there.

But instead, I walked away.

5. I may be in actual danger.

And once I started walking they shouted, "Don't walk away from me!" and "Get back over here." I turned and yelled something back but kept moving because I know that not everything ends with just talk. To have to constantly fear getting raped is normal for women, but it's at its peak when someone takes what I see as the first step.

I'm a strong person who doesn't scare easily. I don't flinch during horror movies and I frequent abandoned places as a pastime. This is one of the only situations that inspire fear in me.

6. Should I be flattered?

I've been doing some research on this, and one of the reasons guys give for catcalling is that they sometimes get a "positive" reaction (a.k.a. the one time in their miserable lives they'll ever see boobs), so they wolf whistle, honk or yell as frequently as possible to get this once-in-a-lifetime chance.

I'm not at all judging the women who are into catcalling, I promise. You do you, girl. I'm just not one of them, and I shouldn't feel obligated to be.

7. Why?

Why today? Why to me? Why can't I just [insert mundane task here] without being treated like an animal? Why does this have to happen in my own town? Most importantly, why isn't anyone working to stop it?

By the way, the photo at the top of the article is from a video of a woman being catcalled 108 times in 10 hours. If you haven't seen it, here you go.