The Next Time You Want to Warn Women to Be Safe, Do This Instead

Women don’t need to be reminded of danger

I pull up at the boat dock and start my routine. I have it down to a science. Park. Emergency brake. Untie my board. Move to the other side to take it down. Pull out my paddle, life jacket, cell phone holder, leash. My movements are rote. They are, in themselves, a comfort. I need this time. I booked a sitter for the sole purpose of going out on the lake to clear my head. As a single mom of two children with ASD, this is self-care.

“You really shouldn’t be out here alone,” a fisherman pipes up from the dock. “There are all kinds of bad people around.”

I look at him and, on general assessment, he could be bad people. Southern (redneck, not genteel), middle-aged, white. He’s exactly the kind of person I would keep my distance from at a place like this, and his words don’t give me comfort. In fact, they do just the opposite.

The calm I was just starting to feel fades away. I am reminded, quite pointedly, that my gender alone puts me in danger even though I’m dressed in athleticwear rather than a swimsuit. I heft my board up and carry it to the water, dropping it in smoothly. I remind the stranger who offered the unsolicited advice that I am not alone, there are others at the park, and that everyone I know is aware that I am at the lake. Because the “bad people” that might be around could be the very one warning me.

I was rattled for half of my self-care time. On one hand, I was furious. I’m a woman. I don’t need to be reminded of the dangers that entails. I was practically born knowing it. I don’t go anywhere without the knowledge that I could be in danger simply because I am a woman.

The fact of my womanhood alone should not require me to wait until I can be chaperoned before going out. It shouldn’t eclipse my self-care time or hamper my travel. It’s insulting enough to be a woman in this world and know that I’m not safe. To be a single woman seems to add insult to injury.

On the other hand, I’m suddenly convinced that there’s something that would be so much more helpful than warning women to be safe. Instead of reminding us of the ever-present danger we are already fully aware of, perhaps they could start telling every man they encounter in a public park to be sure not to rape or murder any women. It would be, perhaps, more useful to warn other men that they have been noticed and that they should keep their hands to themselves than to warn women that we could, at any moment, fall victim to a predator.

It’s just as logical. In fact, it seems more sensible to tell men not to victimize other people than to warn women to curb their enjoyment of their lives on the off-chance someone attempts to harm us. While most men would recoil at the idea of telling another man — a complete stranger — that they shouldn’t rape or murder or otherwise harass women, most have no problem telling women — even strangers — all the things we should or shouldn’t do to avoid becoming the victim of a crime.

I spent my much-needed break stressed and fuming because instead of getting the peace and quiet of nature, I got reminded that violence against women happens so often that on International Women’s Day, of all days, a stranger at a park felt free to remind me that simply being a woman living my life in this world is dangerous. While he went back to happily fishing from the dock, my mind was assessing threats and wondering why the actual fuck he felt entitled to tell me I shouldn’t go to a public park alone.

While most men would recoil at the idea of telling another man — a complete stranger — that they shouldn’t rape or murder or otherwise harass women, most have no problem telling women — even strangers — all the things we should or shouldn’t do to avoid becoming the victim of a crime.

If this person was a safe and decent person, he wouldn’t have felt the need to warn me of the danger because he could have been on the lookout for that himself. Instead of showing himself to be a good guy, he actually made it clear that he was a creep who took pleasure in reminding me that it’s not safe to be a woman doing a recreational activity alone. In fact, he smiled when he warned me about possible violence.

Even if his intentions had been good, the impact of his delivery was anything but. Women don’t ever, in any circumstance, need to be reminded of our safety. We are intimately aware of danger. When we learn to drive, we learn to hold the keys in our knuckles as a weapon, to never enter parking garages alone, and to check all around our vehicle before getting inside. We know to look over our shoulders in parking lots and to always let someone know where we are if we dare to step outside the bubble alone.

The next time a man is tempted to tell a woman about the danger, he would be better off giving that lecture to any men in the area. Afraid for a woman’s safety? Make sure all the men around know that they have been seen and assessed as a potential threat. Remind them not to do harm. Put them in a position of evaluating both their actions and their intent.

On this day of celebrating women and our accomplishments, I should have been able to get out on the water and relax, letting my worries float away. I didn’t need the reminder. It’s my reality.

What women really don’t need is a man, any man, telling us what we already know: that we are not yet equal and that the world is filled with dangers and double standards. We don’t need to be told to cover ourselves, to go back inside, and to either travel in packs or stay home. We don’t need to limit ourselves because there are men who would do us harm given half a chance. We need men to do better.