“Why do you look so mean?”
asked a man I walked past on the street.
“Probably because I’m a woman walking alone and I’m afraid that men are going to stop me to talk to them, to ask me smile, to comment on my appearance, or to ask for my number and then not believe me when I say I’m attached, possibly even following me some distance to try to convince me I’m single and lying or they are better than my partner, so when I see that I am about to walk past a man on the street I start feeling apprehensive. On top of all that, I worry that my apprehension will show on my face and if I’m walking past a person of color it will be misconstrued as racism and if I’m walking past someone who might be living outside, my apprehension will appear to classism, when in actuality what I’m afraid of is men interrupting my day with unwelcome comments,” I didn’t reply.
Aloud I said, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Okay, you don’t know,” he repeated.
I moved on, but not without feeling guilty for not having a better response.