“Oh damn… Y’all are too fine to be going home alone!“

My sister Jessie and I began to Olivia Pope strut as fast as we could back to my place.

“No thanks, we’re good!” I said.

Behind us on that Thursday evening, was a drunk man making a sad attempt at getting our numbers… or whatever else he wanted. We hurried inside and I forced the door shut. Jessie and I looked at each other and the relief expressed on her face mirrored mine.

“I think I’m gonna stay in here for a while,” she said.

“Yeah I think so, too!” I replied.

________________________________________________________________

I enjoy being a woman. Aside from having the miraculous ability to give birth, we get to do cool things like wear skirts and jeans.

However, the notorious catcall makes me want to pitifully sing Beyonce’s “If I Were a Boy” with my comb as a mic. Nothing makes me feel more like a gazelle, cornered by a lion in the African grasslands, quite like a man attempting to holla at me.

I have been on the end of many catcalls, and believe me when I say I am not bragging. They’re uncomfortable and make me feel more awkward than when I’m being sung the Happy Birthday Song.

To be honest, I don’t even understand why we call them catcalls instead of what they really are- harassment. Anything after “Daaamn!” or “Pssst!” from a stranger is probably nothing I want to hear.

One time back during my relaxed short haircut days, a man on the Subway decided to interrupt my journey by yelling to me, “Mmm, damn. Yo you either Rihanna or Keri Hilson! Pick one!“

After being ask/told to choose who I was between two celebrities I looked nothing like, I nervously laughed and scurried to catch my train.

I know I’m not alone in my desires for this to come to an end. After surveying 881 women, Stop Street Harassment found that 99 percent had experienced street harassment. This included everything from honking to kissing noises.

A woman never truly knows the right approach to take in a situation like this. Her space is being invaded and on top of that she’s being embarrassed. Either these men don’t know they’re making women feel uncomfortable, or they know and don’t care. I often take the “ignore it and it’ll go away” approach but as a result I’ve received accusations of being bourgie. I’m sure other women have endured worse.

The point of this post isn’t to bash men or start a She-Woman Man Hater Club. I want to make it clear that I am not talking about the chivalrous attempts at getting to know a woman. I’m calling out the degradation and belittling by men who probably receive relationship advice from Lil’ Wayne.

Fellas, take accountability for yourself and the company you keep. If you or one of the homies think about chastising a woman for her lack of interest, think again. Just because you want her, doesn’t mean you can have her.

Often times women are called bitter, scorn, or stuck up but consider your possible part in making that happen.