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About a year ago, some bloke said to me ‘How much are you?’ This was in the middle of the day while I was out running on Southsea seafront, near the rock gardens. I carried on running. I felt annoyed that this happened. He was with another man who laughed.
I was on my way to an early dentist appointment, it was not even 9am. As I was walking down the street, a male in a BMW passed by slowly. He turned to me and looked up and down the full length of my body a couple of times, with a smirk on his face, before mouthing something at me that I didn’t hear because he had the window closed. The look in his eye was very telling. He wanted to publicly own my body for those 10 seconds.
Myself and a colleague were walking to a meeting at the civic and we walked round the back of the library to get to the Guildhall steps. As we were walking round we were wolfe whistled not once but 3 times and as we turned around 2 of the workmen (working on the back of the library) started heckling at us. After our meeting we went into the library and made a formal complaint. As we walked back through they did the same thing again. Totally disgusted at this genuine display of harrassment in the street in the middle of the day.
Will update once i have heard back from the library as whoever the company is has been contracted by PCC to carry out the work on the library.
This happened on Sunday
Me and my friends had been larking about on the beach near Portsmouth Pyramids wearing stuff we had decorated earlier, some of our group of six had wandered on whilst my friend Mike decided to take our “no solution without revolution” flag we had been waving around up to the massive steep concrete bit, I was wearing some tinsel around my neck and my other mate Greg, (who is quite androgynous looking and was wearing red nail polish and a t-shirt designed for women) was there.
As Mike came down the slope, and we went to catch up with our other friends, a large male in a branded black t-shirt, light short(or shaved?) hair and sunglasses propped up on his head, with full coloured sleeve tattoos was behind some bushes pelting us with rocks that were about an inch in size as we walked past, One hit Mike square in his chest, between the clavicle bones, then 2 more stones were aimed at Stef and me but missed. I turned to face him and said “what the fuck?” and was almost about to go up and challenge the guy, but I saw his size and build, Greg and Mike aren’t big built guys or anything like that, I’m quite short and tomboyish looking, and it just felt really surreal to see an adult acting in a way you’d expect a teenager or young lad to behave. I’m not from Portsmouth, and although I wanted to go over and challenge the guy, (I’m not that timid, usually) I really didn’t want my friends or myself to get beaten on or assaulted more seriously than had already happened, and the idea of making my ride home wait for a police report or worse situation put me off challenging the guy. I got home and my boyfriend said I should have called the police or something, it felt a bit late for that after the fact, and I didn’t take a photo or anything that could be used to identify the guy so I posted it here. He didn’t say anything, so I’m not entirely sure of his particular motivations. I put transphobia down as one of the tags as Greg is somewhat genderqueer, but it could have been anything from the way we were dressed to the flag.
I really wish I’d acted on my usual instinct in this kind of situation where I’m usually quick to react and call someone out.
Large group of young people (men & women) hanging about near the Southsea bandstand. As I walk past with my dog they start with “Look at that dog” “Two dogs more like” “Is it a man” laughter “Is that a man?” laughter. “That’s not a man look at its legs” “Yeah it is” “That’s not a man” “Might as well be” lots of laughter as I walked past. Didn’t say anything then.
On the way back I took a photo on my phone remarking “Say cheese!” They didn’t much like that. Said they’d kick my dog. But they didn’t. Unluckily the photo only shows a few of them. About fifteen in all maybe? Missed the gobbiest one sadly but didn’t want to hang about to take another photo. Now off to report them as bandstand is in a Police/council dispersal area or whatever you call it.
Well I do have very muscular legs. “Why Eleanor what muscular legs you have?” “All the better to….”
I was 17 at the time, and a regular spring chicken. My sister was a freshmen at University. I was super-exited to go visit her, since not only would I get to spend time with my dearly beloved sister but also experience college life. When I get there, my sister took me to a college party just to show me the ropes. It was a wierdo party with strip poles and go-go dancing cages. All of this was new to me, being a homebody and all. Within 5 minutes of arriving this creepy, tall tatoo-ed up guy in a black tank-top and back-wards hat sidled up behind me. When I turned around to stare at him, give him the stink-eye and what not, he leered at me and offered me $20 to strip. Seriously? So gross.
Luckily I have the best sister in the world. As I froze and was speechless from the shock, my sister jumped to my defense and yelled “NO” at him till he got the message and left. The best part? He wasn’t even the littlest bit drunk and everyone else around him was totally wasted.
I know this is a relatively minor harassment but I felt it neccesary to share. It was my first encounter with sexual harassment and I won’t ever forget how this made me feel.
7am, setting up our table at the car boot sale: two men walked past taking a long look at us both. One casually said to the other, referring to my friend, “Well I wouldn’t slam the door on that one” and both laughed. It is not the most intimidating thing to say but it was just so casual. He spoke in a normal voice, I don’t think he cared whether we could hear or not.
Let’s face it, calling someone “that” is never going to be seen as a compliment. And you know what? I’m guessing most women have no wish to know whether random men think they might be fuckable or not.
I was walking back home around midnight after a great night in Albert Road, Southsea, when a group of young men, in their teens, rode by me on their bikes and one of them shouted; “Why don’t you come and ride on this you slag”. I was on my own at the time, though it was busy on the street. I remember all the feelings of happiness that a great night had brought just disappearing.