It’s Probably Nothing, But…

This is Every Woman’s Story

It’s probably nothing, but…

I don’t know a woman who hasn’t uttered these words, or something like them, at some point in her life.

It’s probably nothing, but this car has been following me for a while.

It’s probably nothing, but this guy is standing between me and the exit.

It’s probably nothing, but this guy gave me a bad feeling on the trail.

It’s probably nothing…

But the sad truth is that even when it turns out to be nothing, it’s not nothing at all. It’s the sad state of reality for women that we have to be hypervigilant at all times, and at some point, we have to call our partner or best friend or parent and say these words just in case we happen to get kidnapped, raped, murdered, or otherwise assaulted.

This isn’t paranoia either.

Every day, the news is filled with instances of violence against women, but it’s not just media hype or urban legends. We’ve either been someone who has been in a situation that turned out to be something, or we know someone who has. We’ve spent our lives being warned about how we dress, how we interact with others (particularly men), and how vigilant we need to be in order to decrease the risk of finding ourselves in harm’s way.

There’s not an equivalent conversation for boys overall.

Typically, boys don’t get the message that every time they’re out in the world, they’re at risk of being hurt. They don’t grow up having to be hyper-aware of their surroundings and evaluating other people to see if they might be a threat. While talking to them about consent overall is starting to trend, conversations about safety are not gender-specific.

Of course, there is a conversation that takes place in regards to people of color (particularly boys) and law enforcement. This is a normalized part of their world because of the plague that is racism and racial profiling. This is why we have movements like Black Lives Matter. I would imagine that LGBTQ+ individuals also get this message about their interactions with the world at large.

But girls and women, POC, and LGBTQ+ individuals shouldn’t have to spend every moment on high alert, fearing for their safety.

This isn’t an occasional risk factor.

I had this brought home to me today. I’m an active person. I enjoy hiking, running, kayaking, and paddleboarding. I’m a single parent, and my partner lives in another state, so most of the time, I do the things I like to do alone or with my children.

I was out on my board when I noticed a truck park between the dock and my vehicle — the only vehicle in the parking lot. I was instantly uncomfortable because they didn’t have a boat, and no one got out to fish. The darkened windows were impossible to see through, and for 20 minutes, no one exited the vehicle. I paddled on, but first I sent messages to my partner and a friend to let them know that the truck was there, how long I planned to be out there, and that I would let them know when I was safe in my vehicle.

I started with It’s probably nothing, but…

But it didn’t feel like nothing.

Suddenly, my early morning peaceful paddle excursion became filled with fear. I wasn’t sure I would make it back to my car. I wasn’t sure if this would be my last morning, or at least my last morning before something bad happened. It’s not paranoia because it happens every single day.

When I paddled toward the dock, the truck was still there, but a woman was fishing. While it somewhat settled my nerves, women, too, can be predators and accomplices of predators. The fact that she immediately went to her truck when I paddled in didn’t make me feel better. We exchanged brief greetings, and I got the hell out of there.

But the fear had dissolved into something else: pure anger.

I shouldn’t have to worry that I could be hurt because the world gives a free pass to boys and men. Society attributes to them a stronger sex drive, which is a myth, but also communicates the idea that boys and men have a tendency toward brute force, which they use at will and often walk away with little more than a slap on the wrist.

We’re told men are dangerous, and while this is offensive to men who aren’t, we should be more offended at all by a culture that continues to perpetuate the idea that women should be responsible for their own safety while teaching men that aggression and violence are aspects of masculinity (they aren’t, by the way).

If we’re going to keep telling girls to watch their surroundings in hopes that they can avoid harm, we need to tell boys the following:

Never park between a woman and an exit.

Don’t approach a woman who is hiking, running, or alone at a park. Keep your distance and don’t ever block her exit.

Don’t loiter around women’s vehicles.

Never follow a woman’s vehicle for any reason.

Never assume a woman needs your help, and never approach without her request.

Do you see how ridiculous this is to state these conditions? It actually would probably make girls and women feel better if boys and men did take this precaution, but the world shouldn’t work this way. We should all respect boundaries, consent, and personal space enough that we don’t feel threatened just performing our daily routines.

Parental and educational conversations with children shouldn’t be gender-centered. If we’re promoting equality, we should be talking about consent, addressing double standards and rape culture, and promoting a general idea that everyone should be accorded respect and personal autonomy. We shouldn’t be making dress codes, rules, and advice based entirely on gender roles.

The problem is that the primary lawmakers in charge of our legislation have no f*cking clue that this is how we live.

They don’t seem to understand that women, POC, and LGBTQ+ individuals have to approach life differently. These lawmakers are protected by their privilege, to our detriment. So, when legislation comes up related to weapons or domestic violence, we have legislators with no clue voting on a problem they can’t even begin to fathom.

This is why it’s so important to have equal representation in government.

It’s not enough to just inform those in power of the problems we’re facing. We need lawmakers who understand those problems from the inside and who will pass legislation that protects vulnerable populations — that is, populations made vulnerable by bigotry, misogyny, and rape culture and not by biology. We need people who understand that just because it’s always been this way doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be changed.

This isn’t at all about demonizing men.

The men on Earth right now may not have created the patriarchal systems we live under, but they do benefit from them. Promoting equality means promoting equal representation. It means taking apart a society that does perpetuate the idea that men are violent and that women are victims and putting it back together with the idea that no one should have to live in a near-constant state of hypervigilance because of rape culture or some type of bigotry.

Taking apart the patriarchy doesn’t mean establishing a matriarchy. It does mean that we should work to even the playing field so that everyone has an equal advantage.

For men, this means acknowledging privilege and working to eradicate the idea of privilege based on gender.

For white people, this means acknowledging the privilege accorded on the basis of skin color and working to eradicate that privilege in favor of equitable treatment to all.

For straight people, it means acknowledging the privilege that is accorded on the basis of sexual orientation and working to remove barriers to LGBTQ+ individuals being afforded the same rights and privileges.

This is every woman’s story.

We all take the precautions, whether we’re going on a short solo hike or meeting someone in a public place for a date. We know the risks, but we can’t stop living simply because our culture is constructed in such a way that the risk to certain populations is so much higher than others. But we do need to take action.

We need to do more than text It’s probably nothing, but…

We need to start electing lawmakers who will advocate for equality.

Because equal representation is important and the United States has a primarily white, male government, we need to be electing lawmakers who are women, POC, and LGBTQ+ individuals, so that these needs aren’t shelved simply because privilege prevents them from being recognized, acknowledged, or prioritized.

In my opinion, every white male political candidate throwing his hat into the ring for the upcoming presidential election needs to sit down and choose to support a candidate who will give us that representation.

We also need to monitor our own parental (or educational) discussions for gender, race, or sexual orientation bias.

It’s not just the conversations directly with our children that matter. It’s how we talk about characters on TV, in the movies, or even other individuals. We don’t have to be talking to them directly for them to be influenced by our own biases.

Our parenting (and teaching) needs to get rid of ideas based on rape culture and double standards (related to race or gender identity). Instead, we should be advocating consent and equality and making sure that we don’t admonish girls for the same things boys receive praise for doing.

We need to be the change, and we need to care enough to change the system.

I am 37 years old, and this has always been the system.

While #MeToo, #TimesUp, #LoveisLove, and #BlackLivesMatter trend, we need more than a trending hashtag to address the problems in our society. We need to be the change, and we need to care enough to advocate for it.

It’s not enough to post memes or quotes on social media and call it a day. We need to confront it when we see it in real life, no matter how uncomfortable it feels. We need to hold our lawmakers accountable for the way they vote, particularly on bills that impact already under-served and marginalized populations. We need to create legislation that does a better job protecting people from harm by being smarter — rather than more political — when it comes to making laws around guns, domestic violence, and sexual assault protocols.

We need to be innovating ways to protect ourselves and each other and to stand up and help those who are clearly at risk, but we also need to be making changes to our laws and to our culture while we’re doing it that will make us all safer.

Being the change means acknowledging our privilege and then working toward equality with something more than words flung out into the Universe while we go whistling on our way.

It means having conversations with people who aren’t like us — not in an adversarial way, but to bridge the lack of understanding about the problems that face us so that we can brainstorm solutions and raise awareness together.

I am angry that my peaceful paddle was ruined by a fear that women know all too well, but I’m more disturbed that we continue to accept this as the status quo. It’s been this way for at least 37 years, and I’m not interested in seeing it go on that way for the next 37 or for the next 5 or the next 2. Society is shifting, but the change isn’t coming fast enough.

For some people, the change seems too fast because their own fears are that they will lose the privilege and find themselves as vulnerable as their privilege has made everyone else. Those people will survive — or they won’t.

But it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that we begin to work toward equality so that sending the message It’s probably nothing, but isn’t just a routine part of our lives.