It’s Okay to Be Rude
What I wish I had known earlier about dealing with sexual harassment
The first time I was harassed, I was barely thirteen.
Standing outside the grocery store where my dad was helping my grandma choose some things to bring back to her apartment, I waited with our new puppy on the sidewalk. It was busy and hot, the sun battering the pavement and the exhaust from cars clouding in the air.
A man older than my father approached, petting our new puppy without asking. He then launched into a speech about how pretty I was, followed by an onslaught of questions begging to know my address, my phone number, my age and whether my parents were around.
I told him I was just thirteen.
He laughed, but was not dissuaded. I noticed how his eyes lingered in uncomfortable places for longer than I wanted them to. As he leaned close to me, I caught a whiff of alcohol from his faded t-shirt. Eventually, I ran inside.
The entire time, I was afraid he would think of my response to his questions as rude or over-dramatic.
Perhaps, he was just trying to be nice.
The second time it happened, I was on the school-bus and someone groped me. I couldn’t see who did it — the bus was brimming with people and I was too scared to turn around at first — but it felt…
