i am feeling that there's a man following me

Do you know that there's a man following you?'

I have been oscillating on the idea of writing about women's personal safety. Yes, it's a current issue, but so much has already been said. 

Jill Meagher's rape and murder in September affected many. It created conversations about personal safety and the roles of men and women in society. I was heartened that much of the commentary was focused on how horrific it is that a woman couldn't be safe walking home at night, rather than on the victim-blaming question of why was a woman walking home at night.

Despite this, many women felt less safe and many men felt that women were less safe. Some women were becoming more cautious, and recommendations for personal safety were distributed by Victoria Police. These recommendations were the usual sorts of things that I have even taught young women myself when I worked in a role where I went out to secondary schools to run classes with early adolescents. Walk with purpose. Carry your keys between your fingers. Don't sit near men on public transport. Wear earphones to avoid looking approachable. Keep the volume on your earphones down so that you can hear a potential offender approaching. Keep to main roads. Stay in well lit areas ... and on it goes. 

In addition to women feeling scared, many men felt the need to become hyper-vigilant of the safety of the women in their lives. Jill declined a walk home from a male colleague the night she was killed, and despite him having good intentions, I don't doubt that he feels incredibly guilty that he didn't walk with her despite her refusing to take up his offer. But the problem with all of this risk mitigation is that it doesn't cut to the heart of the issue: how do we stop these offences occurring?

The focus on women needing to prevent attack and men needing to protect women from being attacked doesn't even remotely come close to the message that people need to receive: JUST DON'T ATTACK. 

Yes I realise that it is difficult and complex; but while we continue to take women aside in high school to teach them all of these lessons about personal safety we are teaching them that all men have the potential to be rapists and that men are so biologically simple and primitive that their behaviours cannot be controlled. (Yes, males you should be offended.) While I am not against lessons about personal safety, it is high time we considered lessons in why and how you don't attack people because when we focus entirely on needing women to be safe, we are precluding women from being full citizens.

Not feeling safe to walk on the street diminishes one's right to participate fully in daily life. When my very caring, albeit slightly paternalistic, male friends tell me off for catching trains late at night, or being alone in my office, they are suggesting that I stop doing these things. And while their intentions are kind, I don't want to change my work hours. Or to have to not work in my office alone in case the security guard crosses the line. But at the same time, they don't want something to happen to me. And this weekend this dilemma came to a head. 

I like to run at night. Partly because it's the only convenient time of my day, but mostly because of the sense of solitude that comes with the darkness. Last Sunday we were having a BBQ, after which I was planning to go home and run. The boys were not happy about this, Their discontent was compounded by the fact that a fortnight or so ago Sarah Cafferkey was murdered and her body found in the rubbish bin of a suburban home which was not very far at all from where I live. I still went for my run and despite it making me realise that I'd eaten too much food, it was fine. But on Friday night, this was not the case. It was probably about 10.30pm. When I run this late I don't run on the tracks along the creek next to where I live. It is dark and infested with mosquitoes  I live near a main road that is well lit and very busy so I run up and down that. It's boring, and there's typically dinguses beeping their horns which I don't like at all, but it's safe. 

On my way home the boringness became too much so I took a turn into an avenue. Not far into it a tow truck drove past me. It turned into a street shortly after. As I got further down the road, the tow truck passed me again. I was now in a dark part of the avenue hidden by trees. The tow truck pulled over about 20 metres ahead of me. My instincts sharpened. I kept my earphones in but turned the volume off. I stopped running and started walking. The passenger door opened. A woman got out. She walked toward me. She was talking. I took the earphones out. 

'Do you know that there's a man following you?'

Fuck.

What do I do? Is she telling the truth? 

She went on to tell me that her husband who was driving the truck had noticed me. Then he'd noticed a man on the other side of the road. Then as I had sped up, the man started running also. I can't remember parts of what she said. I was mindful that this could all be a lie. She said her husband had pulled into their street but then felt compelled to turn around. He was worried about me. She told me they'd give me a lift. I didn't want a lift. She sensed my discomfort. She told me her name. Her husband's name. By this point, the man who I was yet to be convinced actually existed was being confronted by the husband on the other side of the road. I was a bit shocked with what was unfolding. I told the woman I lived nearby. I was only about a kilometre or so from home. I asked if she could keep her husband talking to the man so that I had time to run home. She agreed. I ran. 

When I was near home the tow truck drove past again. I got scared. They were just checking on me. I waved. They beeped their horn. I got home safely. I was still unsure as to whether the man was really following me - was he just a victim of prejudice being male and walking the same path as I? I wanted to tell myself that it was a coincidence. Perhaps the tow-truck driver was just hyper-alert given the Cafferkey case. I wasn't sure what to make of it. I put it aside. Since then, I've started to process it a bit more and have felt quite rattled. Grateful to these kind people who helped me. But rattled at my inherent vulnerability in the situation. Sure, we should teach men not to attack women and women should feel safe on the streets. But if those people hadn't helped me, and something had of happened, I wouldn't have felt very safe anymore.

I dropped off my weekly batch of muffins to the boys today. I told them about this. As I was telling them, they quite literally got to their feet and had this primal defensive response. They were not happy. They do not want me to run at night. I am not sure what I will do.