I don’t remember the first time I was catcalled. If I had to make a guess, I’d say I was either 13 or 14 years old. If this shocks you, it shouldn’t; this is, unfortunately, pretty common. Street harassment, another phrase often used interchangeably with catcalling, is defined as a form of sexual harassment that consists of unwanted comments, wolf-whistlings, etc. Here’s what this objectification feels like throughout a young woman’s teenage years throughout her early 20’s.
In your early to mid-teens, you may secretly kind of like being catcalled.
When I first began receiving catcalls, whether it be walking down the street holding my dad’s hand or just standing in line waiting for food, it felt validating. I was between the ages of 13-15 years old, and I liked the attention.
In a society that emphasizes a woman’s beauty and sexual appeal over any of her other qualities, getting this form of male attention feels expected. If a young woman doesn’t get harassed, she may feel as though there’s something “wrong” with her and her appearance. It’s extremely common for teenage girls to feel insecure, so a catcall can make them feel pretty or desired.
By your mid-to-late teens, street harassment starts feeling unwanted and a bit frightening.
Once I reached the ages of 16-19 years old, the comments became more vulgar, more common, and far more unwelcome. During this time, I had many conversations with different friends and peers about how annoying and creepy the comments had become, and I remember my friends recounting tales of men offering to drive them home at night.
During your late teens, you become more aware of the dangers around you, such as creepy men shouting obscenities directed towards you. The harassment becomes more frequent, and feels more threatening. I still remember walking down the street in broad daylight as a man in a security guard uniform walked past me, looking me up and down in the most exaggerated way possible, and said, “Nice!” while nodding his head. I felt a security guard was someone I should be able trust to keep me safe, but in that moment I was terrified. I had just turned 16 years old.
Once you reach your early 20’s, you’re just over it.
By the time I turned 20, I was not only used to the harassment, I was straight up done with it. I used to be scared of the men trying to sexually intimidate me, but at this point they no longer scare me. When I get catcalled now, I usually have my pepper spray on my person. When I’m carrying my pink, pocket-sized mace, I don’t hesitate to look them in the eye and say, “Ew, seriously?” When I don’t have my pepper spray, which is my main form of self defense, I typically just roll my eyes or give them a disgusted look.
By this point in a woman’s life, street harassment is typical and expected. We know how to deal with it, even though we shouldn’t have to. We are called overdramatic for complaining about a man complimenting our legs or telling us to smile, but the people who diminish our annoyance probably haven’t been hearing those “compliments” for 7 to 10 years like we have.