TW: Sexual harassment, slight allusions to assault but non-graphically.

I'M NOT THE first woman to write about this and I certainly won't be the last. I'm not saying anything new here - nothing you haven't already heard. But I'm hoping that through my ability to only slightly shame you while offering understanding and advice, my knack for cursing you out eloquently, and my general disdain for straight cis men, I can offer a perspective that makes you consider yours.

Disclaimer: I'm aware, and I hope you are, too, that men and people of other genders can be harassed and assaulted sexually. I'm aware that women and people of other genders are capable of the same. It happens everyday. I can't speak for them, though. I can't speak for every woman, either, and I invite everyone to share their experiences or perspective if they feel inclined to do so. 

I shouldn't have to tell anyone not to touch me. But the reality is, I do. I'm not going to tell you why you shouldn't. I'm going to tell you a story.

My friend calls me and invites me to come out. I'm super excited because it's been a while and it'll be nice to get out of the house. Getting ready is one of the best parts of going out because it's the only time during the entire night I have nothing to worry about. I put on my "getting ready" playlist (lots of Beyonce) and start doing my hair and makeup. When it's time to leave, like many people in the city do, I decide to take the train because the place I'm going to is close to me. No point in Ubering. So I leave my house and I head to the train.

On my way there, I hold my keys in my fist, one key between each cleft of my fingers and I observe my surroundings. I don't even realize I'm doing this because at this point, it's second nature. My mom did buy me pepper spray for my keychain, but I can't bring it out to most places because they will confiscate it at the door - deeming it virtually useless. I'm listening to music as I walk down the street, but not too loudly because I need to be able to hear what's going on around me. I glance at the sidewalk subconsciously after every few steps, just in case I see a shadow that isn't my own. And I wait at the station - making sure I don't acknowledge or make eye contact with anyone there. I don't want to encourage anyone to approach me.

When I get on the train, I ease up a little. There are more people around, but still, I remain alert. As I look for a seat on the train, a man smirks at me. I sit on the opposite side of the train. At the next stop a man gets on and starts speaking very loudly to all of the passengers. He starts yelling slurs and saying inappropriate things to the women on the train. I try not to let my blood boil and I sit there, making sure not to react physically, and I attempt to drown it out with my music.

Finally, I get off the train and make my way to the bar, crossing the street a couple times to avoid passing people on the sidewalk.  When I walk up to the bar, there are 5-6 guys standing outside, smoking cigarettes or just talking. As I approach the door, they all stop what they're doing and stare. I pretend I didn't see them and brush off their "compliments" as I enter the bar. I walk through more groups of guys, all watching me as I look for my friends. When I do see my friends, I sort of forget about my trip there and I'm excited again. We start dancing, smiling, rapping along to the lyrics. Until suddenly, I feel a hand on my arm.

I look back and see a guy, who starts trying to dance with me. I look at him bewildered and say "don't fucking touch me." He backs off and looks at me like I did something to him. I look back at my friends aggravated and one of them holds my hand and starts singing along to the music in an attempt to help me shake off what just happened. They're used to it. I'm still angry, but I try to just move on and dance. My friends and I experience this at least 15 more times throughout the night - dancing then suddenly getting a tap on the arm, the shoulder, whatever. Only one man asked permission to dance with me, but he took it upon himself to touch me first to get my attention.

I see people I know throughout the night. I offer a smile, say hello, and give them a good friendly hug. Some of them are girls I've met out, some are "friends." Some are guys I've met out, some are "friends." A guy I see out often but don't really talk to or hang out with comes up to give me a hug. Maybe he's drunk, I don't know, but after our hug he gives me a kiss. Not on my cheek, not on my forehead - also inappropriate given our relationship - but he kisses my neck. I look at my friends and ask, "did that really happen?" I'm so shocked that I don't even have time to react before he walks away. What the fuck.

After everything I had been through: walking down the street prepared to use my keys as a weapon, having to remain silent while a man degrades me verbally on the train, and being stared down like prey among a pack of wolves at the entrance of the bar, this is what you decide to do? I go through all of that just to spend my night swatting at mens' hands and trying not to get kissed? Do you know what that feels like? Do you know what it's like to have somebody's hands or lips on your body unwillingly? Do you know how exhausting it is to be tapped or touched or grabbed constantly and having to remind yourself to push through and enjoy your night? Do you know how enraging it is to be so stunned you can't even find words, and if you do, you look insane? And do you KNOW how frustrating it is when people say, "well, it's a bar. What do you expect?"

I'll tell you. It's a feeling that no shower can wash away. A feeling no amount of alcohol can make you forget. And a feeling no therapy session can cleanse you from. And it feels hopeless because the reality is, this is how every night will go for the rest of your life.

You don't have to be the guy blatantly yelling at women on the train. You don't have to be the guy staring women down or the guy who intentionally grabs women and dances on them. You don't have to be the guy that gropes me in inappropriate places. And you don't have to be the guy who kisses women when they're not expecting it. All you have to do is touch me. Because as harmless as you think your actions are, well, they aren't. But not only that, you're just one more fucking thing contributing to my fears, my anger, and my terrible fucking night. 

So I don't care about your intentions because your intentions don't console me at the end of the night. I don't care if you're a nice guy because your kindness does not lessen the weight of your actions. I don't care if you think "knowing" me makes you more entitled to my body than a stranger. And I don't even care about what in your mind makes you think you can touch me because it doesn't matter.

Sure, I can get you kicked out. Sure, I could technically file a report that will go nowhere. And sure, I can get my brothers to pull up on you when no one takes me seriously because all you did was "try to dance with me." I could do all of that. But is that really a burden I need to carry because you can't keep your hands to yourself?

Don't fucking touch me. I'm #notinterested.