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

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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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