The Comments Women Swallow So Men Don’t Feel Uncomfortable

The Comments Women Swallow So Men Don’t Feel Uncomfortable I've Got Your Back

On any given day, a woman can walk down the street and be subjected to catcalls, unsolicited comments, unwanted stares, or worse. And even though it makes her skin crawl, she presses on—eyes forward, shoulders tight, calculating the safest response.

Whether it's in solidarity as a woman, a feminist, or simply as someone who’s been there too many times to count, I think it's important to keep the conversation going. I don't believe men are inherently evil. But we have to stop blaming victims when bad things happen to them and instead start holding people accountable for behavior that makes the world feel unsafe.

Sexual harassment is technically a crime, but proving it is complicated. The law leaves wide margins for what it calls "simple teasing" or "offhand comments," giving harassers plausible deniability. According to the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), "Although the law doesn’t prohibit simple teasing, offhand comments, or isolated incidents that are not very serious, harassment is illegal when it is so frequent or severe that it creates a hostile or offensive work environment." In other words: it’s not harassment until it reaches a breaking point.

In 2022, 7,609 workplace sexual harassment charges were filed through the Fair Employment Practice Agency. More than half of those cases were dropped due to "no reasonable cause." And once formal charges are dismissed, victims are left with only the civil court system—a long, expensive path that rarely leads to justice.

So until harassment is "severe enough," it is, functionally, legal. And that gap is where most of the damage happens.

Street harassment sits in this legal blind spot. It isn’t covered by most workplace policies or legal codes. It’s the lewd comment yelled from a car, the man who walks too close, the stranger who doesn’t take a hint. And when women react with discomfort, anger, or silence, they’re often met with blame: You should have said something. You should have smiled. You should take it as a compliment.

But harassment isn’t about attraction. It’s about power.

Take Uganda, for example. In 2014, the country passed an Anti-Pornography Bill. Confusion over its clauses led to women being publicly assaulted and undressed, accused of violating morality laws. Artist and activist Lindsey Kukunda responded: "If you’re a woman, your decency is in your clothes. If decency was contained in clothes, we would spot a rapist or a corrupt politician from miles away."

In other words: it's not what you're wearing. It's who decides your body is theirs to comment on.

The #MeToo movement reignited these conversations, calling attention to how often harassment goes unspoken. Apps like Hollaback! now let users log incidents of street harassment, complete with maps and the option to click "I've Got Your Back" on someone else’s story. It's a small gesture, but sometimes knowing you're believed is everything.

Here’s an excerpt from one post:

Tonight, I was standing outside of Sears waiting for my boyfriend… this small, blood-red truck slowed down in front of me. And the round-faced male inside said, “Wanna suck some dick?” I stood there, angry. Angry and reduced to a thing... Since the incident, I’ve thought of a hundred glorious comebacks... But I said none of those things. I did nothing. That makes me angry at myself, and I feel like a coward. My strong independent-self did nothing. Some feminist, huh? — Scarlett, Puyallup, WA

The fact that this is common doesn’t make it less damaging. These moments don’t just end when the truck drives away. They linger. Women question themselves. Rehearse alternate endings. Swallow their discomfort so men don’t have to feel awkward.

Poet Andrea Gibson wrote in their piece To the Men Catcalling Girlfriend As I’m Walking Beside Her:

Here’s a hint: if women have to play dead every time they walk by your doorstep, You might want to do some work on why that turns you on. You might want to do some work on why her flinch and startle makes you feel like you’re in charge...

And rapper Dessa, in her 2018 song Fire Drills, put it even more bluntly:

You can’t be too broke to break. As a woman always something left to take... That formula works if you can live it, But it works by putting half the world off limits. We don’t say, "Go out and be brave," Nah, we say, "Be careful, stay safe."

Those lines hit because they’re true. Women don’t have the luxury of reacting with total honesty in these moments. I know, because I’ve been there more times than I want to count.

Like the time I worked a catering gig one summer, tending bar under a flimsy umbrella in the August heat. One of the employees kept leaning in too close. I mentioned I had a boyfriend. He didn’t back off. Later, he brushed his entire body against mine—repeatedly. I said nothing.

And then, when we were alone in the kitchen, he grabbed me. Laughed. Said, "Oops, sorry. It’s hard to avoid that booty."

I didn’t scream or slap him. I made a joke. I walked away. And I hated myself for it.

But that’s how it works, isn’t it? You’re taught not to make a scene. To let it go. To be polite. And when you don’t speak up, you feel like a traitor to your own convictions.

That’s the trap: we’re told to be safe instead of being free. Told to stay quiet instead of being "too much."

And the real crime? That we’re expected to manage everyone else’s comfort before our own.

So no, I don’t have a clever comeback for every moment of street harassment. But I do have this essay. And maybe that’s how we push back.

Maybe this is me saying: I’ve got your back, too.