When I was walking through the streets of Ulcinj (Montenegro), I asked a man for directions. He had said he would walk me to the end of the street, but instead, he continued to follow me and ignored me when I politely told him that I wanted to be alone. He began asking: “Are you married?”
I responded “No”, and I added (and I hate saying this, because it implies that it takes another man’s authority to make a rejection acceptable): “But I have a boyfriend.”
“Ah… And where is he now?” he asked then. This kept going on and on — uncomfortable questions, occasional touching — until I could finally get rid of him. When I returned to my hostel, I just wanted to be alone. My day felt ruined.
“But I am a feminist! Why did I let this happen?!” I wondered afterwards. Fear turned into rage very soon. I knew that I had the right to tell him to leave me alone. I knew what I had to do, in theory. But I didn’t. Sadly, sometimes empowerment only comes through experience.