To Those Men

 To those men who think it's a laugh to catcall women as they walk down the road.

To those men who brush ever so casually against your breast as they reach for the rail on the tube.

To those men who walk too close to women on a dark street.

To those men who tell you to smile, cheer up, be pretty.

To those men who drunkenly tell you you're beautiful and leer close to you as you back away.

To those men who try to steal a kiss when being pushed firmly away.

To those men who comment on your legs or breasts or arse.

To those men who sit too close on the bus pressing their leg against yours.

To those men who grab women, who touch women, who fondle women in crowded places.

To those men who pull women in tight, who push women into dark corners, who force their bodies against women.

To those men who put their hands on women, who put their hands under your clothes, who pull at your clothing.

You are part of the problem.

It's not a laugh, it's not banter, it's not ok.

It's threatening.

It's frightening.

It's abuse.

I call it out, all women call it out.

It's not ok to make women feel scared, threatened, intimidated.

It's not ok to be that man, that bully, that predator.

And until you accept that we will continue to live in fear of you, to walk in fear, to see you all as predatory.

To hold our keys in our clenched fists, to avoid going out in the dark, to plan our route home carefully.

To teach our daughters to fear men, to be small and quiet so the men won't see them.

To mourn and fight and fear at each new attack, each tragic murder, each case of coercive control.

Written in sadness, in memory of all the abused, scared and murdered women.

In hope we can change this narrative.