Not All Men Are Guilty — But All Women Pay the Price
Violence. Harassment. Fear. Death: that’s the cost of being a woman
Two friends told me on the same day that they’re afraid of men. Not a specific man — just men. Men in general: on the street, at work, in their lives. Needless to say, both of these friends are women.
It made me pause. Am I afraid of men?
I’m afraid of walking alone at night, that’s for sure, but of men in general, no, I don’t think so. That’s why I’m more able to treat them like human beings rather than sexual miscreants who could explode with rage and entitlement any minute.
However, I must say I’m not sure I’m entirely right in the treatment of my fellow men. This attitude got me a lot of attention and not necessarily the good kind. I’ve been through a lot of unfortunate episodes with men to know better that although it’s not all men, it doesn’t need to be all men.
There only needs to be one. One man is enough to end my life.
Or the life of any woman out there, walking alone at night, or jogging, or sleeping in her bed, or just living her life.
Because although it’s not all men who perform these acts, it’s all women who have suffered them.
Sometimes I watch true crime. Needless to say, it’s always a woman killed by a man. Most often cases are ‘woman (walking, reading, existing) is attacked, raped and killed’, or ‘husband kills wife and pretends he found her dead’.
Many women experience violence from someone they know, particularly intimate partners, rather than strangers. In some regions, up to 38% of all murders of women are committed by intimate partners, according to the World Health Organization.
But this number is only about murder. It doesn’t include the rest of the violence against women. And truth be told, it doesn’t have to be outward violence. Assault comes in many ways. And usually not from just one man.
In my case, and off the top of my head, there were the two men who slapped my ass right in the middle of the street. Separate incidents, a few years apart. I was walking; they were on a bike and a scooter, respectively. They hit me and sped away.
Then there was the man who stalked me after he bought a few paintings from me. I wrote all about it here:
Then there was the man who told me he would pay for a breast enlargement for me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and personal assistant in public, and his dominatrix in private. I had requested no breast enlargement, nor did I have the intention to get one. He just offered, and when I refused, he yelled straight in my face.
Then there’s the administrator of the apartment complex where I live who also yelled in my face when I asked some administrative question that I don’t even remember right now. He got so red yelling I thought blood would shoot right out of his eyes.
Then there are the countless men who slide in my DMs to tell me they’ve seen me in a supermarket and now they know the area I live in.
Then the many who send me death threats when I write feminist articles.
Then the men I’m friendly with and they decide that’s an invitation to intimacy — regardless of whether they’re married or involved with anyone. That’s not violent or abusive, it’s just icky.
Then there was my friend of twenty years who tried to touch me while we were having a drink on the couch. He just slid his arm under the cushion I was resting on as if that was the most natural thing in the world. When I called him on it (plus other incidents I closed my eyes to over the years), he ghosted me.
Then there was the guy who paid for a week in London for me and then told me I should have slept with him for it. Also a friend of many years. Also, a trip he offered to pay for with zero prompting on my side.
You see, there are many men out there. Good men, kind men, handsome men, helpful men, but also evil men, sick men, disgusting men.
As a woman, it only takes one to destroy your life. Or end it.
And you never know which one of the many men out there would be the one who harms you. It’s not like they have labels on their forehead. They all look like normal men until they’re not.
It makes you wonder: if it’s not all men, why is it always every woman? Every woman in the world, regardless of age and location can tell you a story about a man who was violent or inappropriate with her.
I sometimes think of the fathers of girls, who try to protect them from other men. They never use the phrase ‘not all men’ when it comes to their little girl.
I wonder if this dad knows his little girl is going to suffer at the hands of his peers. I wonder how he feels about it.
I feel bad even writing about it, knowing that among my readers some good men will be horrified and ashamed to be part of a group that deliberately hurts another group that they love.
But still, the reality is what it is. Men hurt women and they always have. They hurt them, they rape them, they kill them. But most often, they inflict countless micro-aggressions on a daily basis. Tiny infringements that make women fear men and keep them at a distance.
As a result, more and more women are single by choice. In 2018, that number was 41% for working women between the ages of 25 and 54. By 2030, it will rise to 45%, according to global leader in financial services Morgan Stanley.
It’s a figure that most men who are interested in a relationship with a woman are very quick to dismiss as hogwash and feminist propaganda.
Maybe it is. After all, violence against women is nothing new, and still, women have been getting together with men since the beginning of time, despite the dangers.
It’s not so easy to go against what nature designed you to do, even when it designed you to copulate with your main predator. In the case of women, men are our only natural predators — we are on top of the food chain after all.
But then again, it’s also not easy to go against our nature when it comes to having children, and still we see a growing number of women who decided to be childfree, although nature designed us for procreation, not happiness.
The difference is that times and trends are changing.
Until now we didn’t know there was another way. Women didn’t have the financial power to survive on their own. Now we do. Now we can afford a single life, and it’s becoming more and more socially acceptable to live without a man, and without offspring.
Now maybe we’re done trying to survive. Maybe we’re ready to live.
If you’re a man reading this and you feel defensive, I ask you to pause. To listen. Not to argue. Because women aren’t looking for perfection. We’re looking for safety. And if it really is “not all men,” then it’s time for more men to prove it.
Not with hashtags. But with action. With accountability. With solidarity.
Because until women are safe, none of us should feel comfortable.
Mona, thank you for your column today....I appreciate your taking time to tell your story in such a clear and vulnerable way. For a man; it's a cautionary tale that provides insight that I feel should have been part of what I learned at a much younger age. Praying to embody the lessons in each day now with deep respect.