I’ve been feeling rather good about women lately. I’ve been sensing a stronger vibe. We’re getting fed up. It’s not anger, exactly, but it’s certainly anger-adjacent. I can hear my mother’s voice in my head saying, with a heavy sigh, “If you want something done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself.”
I’ve been hearing a lot of stories about how women are sticking up for themselves and each other, now more than ever before. This article, entitled Half-dozen women hit, scratch, kick Portland park attacker as they wait 31 minutes for police to respond is a prime example of this. A man, apparently high on LSD, began chasing various women around this public park, grabbing them, grinding on them, even straddling a 74-year-old, not letting them go despite screams and being beaten with objects and lunged at by a dog, until finally 6 women converged on him at once and held him at bay for 31 minutes until the police finally showed up.
Those women didn’t know one another. But they knew about strength in numbers. They knew they were sick and tired of men getting away with the things so many men get away with. (And if you come at me with “not all men”, I’ll poke you in the eye. I know it’s not all men. But until the day it’s NO men, women have to live like it’s ALL men until proven otherwise in order to stay safe. And unless the “not” ones come to understand and accept that and become our allies in the fight for more accountability, nothing will ever change. So, until that happy day, STFU.)
I also hear of women standing up for women who are being hassled on public transportation or in bars. Men who think they can play the intimidation card are starting to get shocked when the tables get turned. When you confront a bully, it’s amazing how quickly they deflate.
I’m also hearing of more women approaching women and pretending to be friends they haven’t seen in a long time, or if the woman is young, perhaps an aunt. “Maria! Is that you? My goodness! I haven’t seen you in ages! Come sit and tell me what you’ve been up to!” Men are suddenly less willing to behave badly when they think two women are connected.
I’ve been in a few forums lately that have discussed what to do if a woman is being hassled by a man who may possibly be her partner. In those situations, confronting the man might mean that when they get home it will be even worse for her, because he was humiliated. That’s a tricky situation. But you can’t always be sure they’re partners. It might be a blind date gone wrong, or a sex trafficking situation, or a partner she desperately wants to break free from immediately.
In cases like that, the best thing to do is try to get eye contact with her if you can. Try to see if she’s asking for help. Or, if she is alone at any point, if she heads to the bathroom, for example, approach and ask if she needs help, and if so, what is going on, and plan from there.
Our attitudinal shift started off slowly, perhaps going as far back as the advent of Revenge Porn, With each new outrage it has picked up speed. All the Manosphere/Red Pill/Incel foolishness, The Me Too Movement, Electing a proud pussy grabber. The Harvy Weinstein Scandals, the overturn of Roe V. Wade, and the Epstein Files. And after all of that, no accountability. None. It has all become too much.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating vigilantism. I don’t think we should take to the streets with pitchforks and torches. That is the kind of thing that the more stupid and violent end of the male continuum does. But I think being polite and quiet and accommodating like our mothers taught us is not serving us well. If we see abuse happening, there should be no clutching of pearls, no sitting idly by. We need to stand up, speak out, and stop this stuff in its tracks.
Yes, often they are bigger and stronger than we are, so we have to get creative. Use teamwork, trickery, noise, and embarrassment. (“Don’t I know your mother, dear?”).
Whatever it takes to get the job done. Because we’ve tried to leave the job to the good men for too long, and sorry, guys, but we’re still being abused. So it’s up to us now.
I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go off. Because here’s the thing (yeah, yeah, there’s always a thing): I’ve managed to go 61 years without abusing anyone, and I’m quite sure I can maintain that trend until the day I die, so I think I’m perfectly justified in having zero tolerance for someone who can’t demonstrate that same ability, especially if they’re picking on someone who isn’t their own size. And I’m more than willing to say so at the top of my lungs.
Sisters unite.
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