Disclaimer: In Real Life is a platform for everyday people to share their experiences and voices. All articles are personal stories and do not necessarily echo In Real Life’s sentiments.
Hold your keys in between your fingers, bring your pepper spray, stay alert and walk in big strides with your head down. These are the reminders that go through the minds of most (if not all) girls and women when they prepare to head out and especially if they’re alone.
I am no stranger to these practices. I enjoy going out on my own, but over time my “out alone” walk has had to develop into this stompy, masculine stride accompanied by a serious look on my face. I feel like I have to constantly be ready to fight, or at least look like I can.
Bumping into people is inevitable at a concert
Anyone who has been to a concert knows that you’re bound to brush up against another concert-goer at some point, no big deal.
I found myself a good spot to set up camp and was fully immersed in Kyoto Protocol when a Caucasian man(who I assumed was a tourist) walked past me. The space in between me and the other person near me was quite narrow, and as The Man walked past, he put his hand on my waist to gently nudge me aside.
I immediately felt a bit uncomfortable. It didn’t seem necessary for him to touch me despite the small space, but at the same time I didn’t want to make any negative assumptions, so I stayed put and just tweeted about it to let off steam.
He kept walking past and touched me each time
About two songs later, he did it again. This time, I could feel his entire palm press against my skin as he pushed past me. I knew that it was definitely on purpose as the empty space where he was walking through was much wider this time – he had plenty of room.
Kyoto Protocol left the stage and the crowds moved in closer as we awaited the most popular act that night, Midnight Fusic.
Wonderwall blared through the speakers as they were setting up and everyone was singing along at the top of their lungs when The Man walked past me a third and final time.
I was wearing a crop top that night, which meant my mid-section was exposed. As The Man walked past from behind me, he glided his hand across my back and around the side of my waist, turning back to look at me.
This was it, years of practising in my head how to confront someone in a situation like this was going to be of use.
I couldn’t say a thing. I was frozen in shock and all I could do was shoot him an angry look – I don’t even think it was a particularly intimidating one.
I kept wondering if I could’ve prevented it from happening
I didn’t see The Man again after that last encounter but it was all I could think about on the car ride home as I replied to all the messages from friends checking in on me and making sure I got out of the venue safely.
Victim blaming is a major no-no for me, but that night I couldn’t stop myself from wondering, “Was it the way I was dancing?”, “Was my outfit too revealing?”, “I shouldn’t have been out alone as a woman, especially not in Petaling Street.”.
A never ending battle we women face
The local music scene is not to blame here, in fact, they are one of the most supportive communities I know. I love seeing local artists and have been to a number of other gigs since this incident – this single disrespectful person doesn’t reflect everyone.
Although I am not too affected by it anymore, I can’t deny that it was quite scary at the time. I felt so helpless, especially as I was on my own, and for a while I blamed myself for what had happened.
I also kept trying to tell myself that it was just a minor incident, nothing to complain about. He barely touched you! It could’ve been worse. I was trying to convince myself that it was no big deal and by doing that, excuse The Man for what he did.
Will women never be able to feel as safe and comfortable as our male counterparts in public? How long more will we have to teach our daughters to defend themselves and prepare them to face situations like this?
Know anyone with an interesting story to share? Drop us an email at hello@inreallife.my and we may feature the story!
For more stories like this, read:
Dear Men, There Is Nothing Sexier To A Woman Than A Man Who Understands Consent
Men, No Always Means No. Here’s My Experience of Being a Woman in Malaysia
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