This topic has been bouncing around the files of my brain for weeks. Part of me has been worried about being able to accurately discuss this subject while staying politically correct and without being offensive, but the other part of me knows it needs to be discussed.

Before I begin, I just want to say that many of these statements may be generalizations; I want to state that I understand that not all men in this society are bad people, and I also understand that bad things can happen to any gender, by any gender. I do not condone judging people superficially based upon their appearance. But I also think that there is a twisted, off-balance feeling I get that really needs to be addressed when I think about how safe I actually feel as a twenty-year-old woman living essentially on my own, traveling to many places throughout the year and on a daily basis.

A few weeks ago, my mother and I were walking into a dentist appointment. It was 1pm and we were in a safe, affluent commercial area. As we walked through the door, a man came through at the same time and asked us if we knew where the nearest hospital was. The man, at least 6 foot 2 and over 200 pounds, looked slightly distressed. My mom pointed across the street to the hospital and asked if he was all right. He said that he was having chest pains, which can be a very dangerous sign of an impending heart attack. Instead of offering him a ride across the street, my mom and I both slowly walked inside and got into the elevator. As the door closed, I asked her if we should have taken him. “I don’t know,” she said, “I wasn’t sure if it was safe or not.”

At this moment I realized how utterly sad and messed up it is that in this moment, both of our first instincts were to leave this man for the sake of our own safety. Maybe many others would have taken him, but he could have easily overpowered both of us on the chance that he was faking it, and that was the first thought I had when I knew he may need help, not that I should be a decent person and take him. Why do I have to have this strong sense of self-protection in the first place? Maybe I’m cold and heartless, and my mother is too, but I don’t think that’s the case. Somewhere between night-time news reports of kidnappings and rape, and the feeling of adrenaline and fear soaring when an unfamiliar male walks a little too close in a parking lot, us women seem to have a lot to look out for in the daylight, and especially in the dark.

One day on my Facebook feed, a Buzzfeed article featuring photographs by Taylor Yocom of women holding items for self-defense caught my eye. These women were pictured with mace, rape whistles, and keys jammed tightly between their fingers to use if needed, the latter something I often do myself. The pictures made me think about how girls are told never to sit in their car in a parking lot no matter what time of day, and to always have their keys ready when walking to the car. When I joined a sorority, one of the first speakers we had come talk to us was a women selling a sort of mace. It wasn’t the regular thing sold in stores, because that wasn’t always effective enough to keep an attacker away. This form left the person incapable of movement for at least five minutes. And after the speaker was done, many of my sisters bought the product, knowing they might need it. My boyfriend’s mom held a self-defense class at her house this summer, and I realized it was something I should have gone to a long time ago. I have had many occasions where I wish I had bought some of that special mace for myself, or had been able to make it to the defense class. We are insanely cautious, and hopefully some of us are prepared. But is it too much?

According to Huffington Post quoting the CDC, “A women’s chance of being raped in the U.S. [is] 1 in 5” (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/soraya-chemaly/50-facts-rape_b_2019338.html). Approximately 82% of rapes are committed by a non-stranger, so what about the other 18% (https://rainn.org/get-information/statistics/sexual-assault-offenders)? Those are the thoughts that often flash through my brain as I am leaving a study session late at night. And to go back to the percentage committed by non-strangers, don’t we need a way to protect ourselves from those too? This is not something that is a rare occurrence. According to the U.S. Department of Justice’s National Crime Victimization Survey, “there is an average of 293,066 victims of [reported] rape and sexual assault each year” (https://rainn.org/get-information/statistics/frequency-of-sexual-assault). This number pertains to only women, and does not include the proposed over 50 percent of rapes that go unreported in the U.S. every year. And ALL of this does not even begin to describe the number of other things that can happen if you’re not paying attention alone at night. I think it is safe to say that there is something to be worried about, and something that needs to be addressed, quickly.

This summer I was in Europe studying abroad. One night after classes, a group of us decided to go out to a pub. We were having a great time until two men came up to my friend and me and started trying to talk to us. They literally refused to leave. At first we were both polite, but eventually I started to get rude and flat out stated I did not want to talk to them. Finally, after 10 minutes, one of our guy friends wedged between us, draped his arms over our shoulders, and helped us stand up and walk away without being touched or followed. I could not and I still cannot understand why these men or any men ever thought it was okay to make a woman feel that uncomfortable. No always means no, and some people do not seem to understand that. This is just one of hundreds of examples where I started to fear for my own safety. I have had friends who have been sexually assaulted by strangers and friends, I have had friends drugged at bars, and I have a few friends who have been raped. I have been lucky enough to not have anything to this extent happen to me, but I am completely aware of its presence in my surrounding community.

This is not something that can be ignored, and it’s something that I think all men especially need to realize. The women in this country don’t feel safe. Many men don’t feel safe as well. We are starting to lose trust. Whether or not this is fair to the trustworthy people with good-intentions is beyond our concern. And while I can wish for a way and hypothesize about how the world can feel a little safer, I feel more inclined to warn my fellow women and to encourage them to take that defense class, or to not go out alone if they can help it. We don’t want to be paranoid. We don’t want to be fearful and to have to be rude to a guy when we’re approached at the bar, but it’s starting to be necessary. What we can do to try and create change is a much more complicated question. I do know that it starts with proper teaching. It starts with our generation teaching young boys and girls about consent and healthy relationships. It starts with better-lit streets and awareness of those who may need help around us. And it starts with those who may be in the wrong taking the steps to correct their actions. Women and people in general don’t want to live in a place where they feel unsafe, but changing that danger starts with everyone realizing how uncomfortable it is in the first place.