How to NOT Sexually Harass a Woman and Mind Your Own Fucking Business

Sep 30, 2017 | Discernment, Mind, Psychology, Relationships

It’s been a bizarre few days in the life of Ashley. An emotional roller coaster, as always, but also filled with tons of observations and insights, as the story usually goes.

Do you ever notice how, when you make a quantum leap in your own personal development, shit seems to get stirred up a bit and you lose a few people along the way? And it’s ok, because they were people who matched your old vibration and now that you’ve upgraded, they’re becoming dead weight that’s trying to hold you down, so you have to burn a few bridges in order to keep going. When you realize that, you’re totally ok with dousing it in gasoline and you might even utter a slight chuckle as you toss the match.

It all began earlier in the week when a “friend” that I’d dropped a few weeks ago suddenly reappeared. I’m at a point in my life right now where I have ZERO interest in people unsolicitedly telling me what they think I should be doing with my life. This person had a notorious history of doing this to me and no amount of me attempting to explain that my life and my decisions are not his to influence or determine unless I specifically ask for his opinion or advice seemed to make him understand that. So I gave him a very clear, explicit guideline of what I was looking for in a friendship at this point in my life:

Here’s the thing. I’ve spent the last 6 months of my life hard core purging people and relationships that are not conducive to my own support and well being. And that included a fuck ton of people who couldn’t find it in themselves to let me live my life the way I wanted to and simply provide me with the emotional support that I needed while going through a lot of shit.

So the thing is, I no longer have the time or the patience for people and relationships that can’t respect me, my choices, or my boundaries. I’ve come a long way in the last two months. Maybe even in the last two weeks. The personal development seems to continue to grow with every bridge I burn. I even blocked my dad’s phone number a few weeks ago.

So if you want to be my friend, then show up for me in the way that I need and how I need it. If you can’t do that… then that’s not a friendship that I want or need in my life at this point.

He didn’t like that. At all. So I had to throw some gasoline on that bridge, too, and I didn’t shed a tear over it.

Later in the week, I walked from my apartment down to another neighborhood where I was attending a business meetup and panel discussion. The walk was approximately 1.4 miles which took about 20 minutes. In the short amount of time that it took me to get there, I was cat called five times.

I’ve written about my experiences with sexual harassment in the past rather candidly and I talk about the things I experience day-to-day openly in my Facebook group. I think my previous writings about my experiences have made a pretty good case as to why this is such an issue, and this week’s events only served to support it.

I posted a Facebook status about my experience, thinking that many of the women on my friends list would be able to identify. So many of us endure near daily physical and emotional intimidation while simply walking down the street, fearing that if we don’t respond in the pleasing manner in which we are expected to, that we’ll be met with anger and threats of violence. Sometimes that happens even when we attempt to ignore it.

The commentary that followed from total strangers, both men and women who were supposedly “spiritual,” as that is the major makeup of my 4,000 or so followers, was utterly shocking to me.

I hope I don’t have to explain the absurdity behind all of the “just deal with it or stop going out” and “take it as appreciation” comments, but in case I do:

“I was told that I should take it as a compliment. I had other male friends tell me the same thing.
I’ve also been told the same thing about cat-calling and various other forms of verbal harassment. “It just means you’re pretty!” No. It doesn’t mean I’m pretty. It means I’m a target, and not only are you telling me that I should just accept unwanted negative attention in the form of verbal and physical harassment, you’re telling me that I should LIKE it. That’s fucked up.” – The Systemic Perpetuation of Sexism, Sexual Harassment and Sexual Assault

If that’s not gaslighting and emotional abuse at it’s finest, I don’t know what is.

“Here, let me abuse you, just a little, and then tell you that you’re silly for feeling uncomfortable. Sssh, baby, just let it happen. You’re so pretty, don’t you like it when I tell you that you’re pretty? What’s that? You don’t like it? Well maybe you shouldn’t dress that way. What’s that? People do this even when you have no makeup on and are wearing crappy workout clothes? Then maybe you should just stay in your house and not leave. You’re so privileged, thinking that you should be able to leave your house without being physically intimidated or verbally assaulted.

Maybe you shouldn’t have looked at me from across the room. Maybe you shouldn’t have been polite and talked to me when I said hi to you, even though if you’d ignored me I would have called you a bitch or a cunt gave you a little dose of the rage and anger I feel every time I’m rejected that I have to project onto the first woman that triggers my insecurities. Who are you to to tell me that your body doesn’t belong to me?”

Seems slightly more absurd when you think of it that way, yes?

Am I supposed to “take it as appreciation” when I walk past a 50 year-old-man on the sidewalk in broad daylight who starts singing a song to me about sucking his dick? Oh, that just means I’m pretty? Got it. Yeah, I’ll try to let that make me feel good about myself…

The next evening, I was at a bar having drinks with a new acquaintance. A guy across the bar – young, semi-attractive, white, kind of looked like a jock – was yucking it up with his buddies. I happened to look in his general direction, at which point he made eye contact with me and yelled to his friends, “Oh yeah! She wants me!”

I had no idea that turning my head to the left and glancing in someone’s general direction was considered a sexual advance. I guess I should just keep my eyes on the floor from now on. Or maybe just not leave my house. But apparently, I can’t speak up about any of it, either, because then I’m just being bitter and complaining. How dare I tell someone, anyone, that it’s not ok to verbally assault, sexually harass, or otherwise overstep any of my boundaries. God, Ashley, you’re such a whiny cunt. Suck it up. Deal with it.

So I’m also not allowed to feel anything about it, because somehow my internal emotions are enabling and justifying this person’s behavior toward me. I’m just supposed to stick my fingers in my ears and close my eyes and pretend it’s all roses and sunshine, cause you’ve gotta keep that vibration up, you know?

Spare me your new age spiritual bypassing bullshit and pull your head out of your more-enlightened-than-thou ass.

Living your life where everywhere you go, men of all ages, races, and backgrounds are objectifying you, harassing you, and in some cases, physically attempting to intimidate you DAILY is not “such a small thing.” It is a global epidemic. A (shitty) piece of patriarchal karma that needs to be dismantled.

Women have been subjected to this kind of shit for so long that we are afraid to put up boundaries and stand up for ourselves, for fear of god knows what happening. But that’s a clear violation of our boundaries, and it’s not right, and FUCK ANYBODY who tells you that you can’t be pissed off about it or that you should just learn to live with it and deal with. That’s the kind of passive nonchalance that allows this heinous kind of suppression to continue. How about YOU stop ENABLING these douchebags and get on board with the rest of us so that we don’t have to live like this anymore? Because that’s what we’re here to do.

Additionally, to those who think that thinking happy thoughts will magically sweep all of the nasty shit in their lives under the rug… have I got news for you! Personal growth is painful. It requires real, raw, gut-wrenching WORK. Not just on your mind. Not just in how you talk, but also in what you do. Thought, word, deed – that’s the formula for manifestation. So if you’re not going get off of your fluffy ass and do something about it, then GET OFF MY LAWN, or at least get the fuck off of my Facebook page.

My original post spurred a secondary post by someone who got caught up in the conversation, and there was plenty of douchebaggery to be found there as well, with comments like, “Men have been flirting with women this way (in other cultures also) for ages. It’s like peacocking. And don’t be fooled. Women do it also and men feel great when it happens so what is the beef? People got to stop being such bitches sometimes and start loving life as it is.” Someone in my own group even commented, “I get sexually harassed, too. Damn sexist women!”

So let me get this straight…you think that your experience as a 6 foot, 200 pound something man being hit on by a woman is the same as my experience of having a total stranger who is twice my size walk up to me on the street, start pushing his body against me and telling me all the things he wants to do to me? And because you, as a man, feel great when a woman hits on you, that I, as a woman, should feel great about my experience as well?

How many times have you’ve rebuffed a sexual advance from a woman and she responded with an angry outburst? Maybe called you a name or screamed at you in a public place?

Has a woman twice your size – someone that could very easily overpower you, a complete and total stranger, ever come up to you while you’re walking down the street and done what that man did to me? I doubt it.

I get called a bitch and a cunt and a skank for simply IGNORING someone’s advances. Who knows what would happen if I actually responded.

Well, actually, I do, because I have done that on a few occasions with people who were on the lesser end of the intimidation spectrum. He still screamed at me in the middle of a party. I was told to “drop dead” once. That was fun.

Our experiences are fundamentally different, because yours don’t involve threats of violence, death wishes, or the possibility that someone will beat you, shoot you, or rape you simply because you said, “No.”


You got it, buddy. Let’s recap the definition of Sexual Harassment, shall we?

Sexual Harassment: harassment (typically of a woman) in a workplace, or other professional or social situation, involving the making of unwanted sexual advances or obscene remarks.

There’s a sure fire way to avoid that. It’s so simple, you’re gonna freak! You ready? You listening?

Take an interest in a woman as a person, first – who she is, what she thinks, what she believes – rather than immediately jumping to, “I think you’re sexy.”

Strike up a conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with her physical appearance. Just like you’d talk to a man. Or your mother. Or your sister. Or your niece. Or, you know, a normal, living, breathing human being.

After that, you can pretty easily assess whether or not she is interested in you, at which point, feel free to tell her you’re attracted to her.

Or… OR…

By now, you may be wondering to yourself, “What do the two things you’re talking about in this post have to do with each other, other than the fact that they both occurred in the same week?” I’m about to get there.

You see, not a single one of those people who made those comments up there has ever had a single conversation with me. They don’t even follow this blog. They’re just random people who saw a pretty face on Facebook and sent me a friend request, or, in the woman’s case, commented after her friend did. None of them know me. Not a damn one of them has met me. And yet, for some reason, they all felt the need to interject themselves, their opinions and their beliefs into my life, even going so far as to tell me how I should react, how I should feel, what I should think and what I should do in relation to this one little occurrence that I chose to document on Facebook.

Did I ask for their opinions or input about how I should feel, what I should think, or what I should do? Nope. Sure as fuck did not.

Sure, sure, it’s a public Facebook account and that’s simply the nature of a public forum. People are going to interject their shit and project their shit all over your posts. But the hilarious part is when they get pissed off that I tell them to mind their own damn business and get off my lawn.

It’s astounding how people will deflect themselves from dealing with their own shit by getting up in other people’s business and trying to tell them what to feel, think and do with their lives. Additionally, it’s also astounding when “enlightened” people show just how not enlightened they actually are.

You think that speaking up and telling someone that I will not allow them to treat me like an object, or that they have no inherent right to my body, or that they have no fucking business attempting to control and manipulate me by telling me how to think, act and feel makes me a victim? I think it’s quite the opposite. It’s not allowing myself to become a victim.

Get. Off. My. Motherfucking. Lawn.

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1 Comment

  1. I love this and appreciate you. Thank you

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