It’s like night and day
If you’re a college girl living off campus, this article is for you. In my fourth year away from home and my first year living farther from campus, I’d be lying if I said I was used to being on my own. Every girl has had countless walks home filled with the urge to get home and make a hot dinner, turn in an assignment, or just sink into the comfy couch after a long day. This walk home is a different one. These are the nights when there’s nothing on your mind except moving your feet in front of you, one step at a time, until you reach your front steps, turn the key, and lock the door behind you. You think of how nice it is to get off your feet and how you managed to get back without being on the phone the whole time, just so that you would have someone to talk to. Here’s my read on a frightening experience I had on the way home. I know I’m not the only one.
It wasn’t until recently that I realized how different it is to walk between classes and to walk in between my house and campus. Being one student out of a thousand is very different from being out of place and feeling alone and uneasy. You don’t hear of aggravated assault outside the Chemistry building in between classes, but change the time of day and distance from campus and it’s a whole different situation. Between classes you can have soundproofing headphones in without giving a second thought, while it’s essential to have ears open. You’re used to the irritating abundance of sirens, car honking, and construction noise all day long, so when the sun goes down and you’re alone, it’s natural to jump at plastic blowing the wind or a leaf crunching under your shoe.
One chilly night while I was walking home, I was paying close attention to the slick ice covering the sidewalk near my house when I spotted a hooded shadow across the street walking towards me. The brightest lights around came from the liquor store behind him. Both of us happened to reach the lip of the driveway at just the right moment where it felt like we were almost doing a dance to get past one another. As he continued briskly walking towards me, my thoughts turned towards the mace in my pocket. The helplessness of knowing that there wasn’t another person or passing car nearby led me to believe the worst was about to happen. I thought about how my phone was resting in my other pocket untouched and how I should’ve made a call; whether it was real or fake didn’t matter. What mattered was that I hadn’t noticed this man until he was a car’s length away and the chance to look down for even a second had already passed.
The man made his way around me, stepping onto the snowbank as he turned to go in the opposite direction. Relief washed over me and I loosened my grip around my keys. My relief was erased from my mind when I heard a noise behind me and turned to see him standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He picked up a plastic tube off the ground and I realized he must’ve asked if I dropped it. I turned and started towards him, but then I realized my position. My feet were glued to the cement. Immediately, I thought that this guy wanted me to come back and get closer to him again for some reason. It took everything in me to not just turn around and leave as quickly as possible, but instead I politely responded that it wasn’t mine and continued walking.
Looking back, I can’t help but feel like I should’ve been more cautious. A signature move of mine is pretending to glance at something across the street, using my peripheral vision to make sure there’s no one behind me. Walking away from this guy, I was distracted by my relief that he wasn’t following me. I wish guys on college campuses—and men in general—would realize how easy it is for them. It’s a privilege to not need pepper spray in hand or a loved one’s number up on your phone. To recognize this privilege is not only common sense, but also addresses these situations that women encounter . Simply walking directly towards a girl can invoke so much fear and anxiety. Every woman has had a scary experience walking alone at night and if you don’t believe that, you’re lying to yourself.