okay so the only reason I am posting this crappy sketch is because I know the lineart will kill it but I just drew this hand about twenty goddamn times over and I think I finally got it right and if that’s not a decent success to end this bloody impossible year on I don’t know what is



“Many of the submissions on here are of women, which I feel is statistically accurate, but I have stories about both myself (female) and my boyfriend.

My stories (summarized):
While in Harlem for a track meet several years ago I was walking with a friend to a dollar store to grab snacks and kill time between events. I was wearing yoga pants over my uniform shorts and a hoodie over my uniform top, with sneakers, sweaty and without makeup. As we walked down the street a Hispanic man, probably in his mid-twenties, looked me up-and-down in passing and said, “Ma, you got a nice pussy.” He kept walking. My friend and I looked at each other and started laughing, but my laughter was only there to make myself feel better and hide the discomfort. I wasn’t amused. This wasn’t funny.

A few years later I had an internship in Manhattan. Almost every day on my 6 block walk to and from the office I would hear all kinds of comments: “Hey, beautiful, where you headed?” “Smile! Don’t be sad.” “Hey, gorgeous, have a minute?” I would be wearing my business clothes, so maybe a dress, or slacks and a blouse; and as it was a fall internship, eventually I was wearing heavy and covering coats, as it was cold. I never walked in heels. I was always fully covered (I had to be—I had a federal office job!), yet I still got catcalled. I’ve even been catcalled walking through my hometown—whistles and such—and my hometown is a village of 420 people. I told my mom about how uncomfortable I was from this and she laughed—until she walked with me one day and saw first-hand how often the catcalls happened.

My boyfriend has also been harassed. He lives and works in Scotland. At the time these things were happening, he worked as a bartender. Occasionally he’d have to leave the bar and cover the floor, and this is where the worst harassment was. One day he was serving two American women, a mother and daughter, who got drunk and asked him to come up to their room with them for a three-some (and incestual one, at that!). When he declined, politely but firmly, they said, “But we’re both double-d’s!” As if that would really change his mind. He declined and cut off their alcohol.

Another day another American woman came into the bar with her husband. Again, my boyfriend had to go on the floor and serve, so he was at their table serving them. The woman kept asking for a picture with my boyfriend. He kept saying no, as he was busy and hates being in pictures, anyway, even with people he knows. The woman kept insisting and he finally caved. While this woman’s husband took their picture, the woman slid her hand onto my boyfriend’s ass and held his ass, squeezing it and refusing to let go, and insisting her husband take more photos. Needless to say, my boyfriend was extremely uncomfortable, but not wanting to cause a scene, said nothing. He told me on Skype that night, “I don’t want to leave the bar. If I’m behind the bar I’m safe.”

My boyfriend was a semi-professional rugby player and has already served one 4-year term in the British Army. And he was so affected by these encounters that he wanted to hide.

Sadly all of these instances occurred in the U.S. or were perpetrated by Americans. I don’t want to generalize and say that Americans are the problem, but we as a society need to wake up. Women harass men just as men harass women. NO ONE is comfortable with these situations, not even the toughest people we know. And I wanted to share our stories for those reasons. Women aren’t the only victims. It doesn’t matter how tough you are. Everyone is vulnerable, so it is our responsibility to step up and stop the harassment.”

Anonymous submission 

“But What Was She Wearing?” is a project documenting what street and sexual harassment actually looks like. Submit your own!