I’m really tired of talking to you. I’m tired of responding to your yells, I’m tired of crossing the street to avoid you, I’m tired of rolling my eyes, and I’m tired of trying to ignore you. At this point, I get it, you’re trying to “put me in my place” or scare me or assert some kind of power over me or maybe just be an asshole at the expense of my gender. I get what you’re doing, I hate it just as much as I always have and, even though I try really hard, it still hurts just as much every time.
Just now, as I’m sitting on the A train, you’re standing beside me, pushing towards me and pulling out your dick and snapping your fingers, low, to get my attention. But I don’t want to write a Dear John to you. I’m too fucking tired of always dealing with you to even think about giving you a second more of the time you always try to take from me.
I do want to write a Dear John to the man beside me. The one who looks away while I’m trying to get his attention to help me stop this masturbator. I want to write a Dear John to the man across from me, legs open wide, taking up as much space as possible and refusing to meet my eye. I don’t get what they’re doing. I don’t understand how they can ignore the harassment going on a few feet from them. I don’t understand how they can brush it off, or re-write it, or simply not see it.
So Dear John, I’m here, and I need you to step up. Ignoring the harassment and avoiding my looks for help is part of the problem. Dear John, I want you to stand up against harassment. Whether it’s giving me some space, standing up to the harasser, or simply showing support, you have to do something now. You have to do something NOW.