Why one woman’s Facebook status perfectly sums up how we question our outfit choices when we’re catcalled


Every time it happens, the harassment just gets added into this memory blob of unwanted advances from men — a blob that had to start somewhere, I suppose. But drilling to the middle of that terrible memory bank would be all but an impossible task now.

But I did remember something.

When I was a teenager in rural Michigan, which is where I grew up, I drove to the grocery store late at night to get cold medicine. I parked next to a minivan, and there was a man standing next to the van’s sliding side door. I figured it was just a dad helping his kids into the van.

When I walked past the van on my way into the store, the guy tried to “compliment” me in that disgusting, sultry voice that street harassers use. It makes my skin crawl. I think I glanced over long enough to look disgusted.

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