Tonight I decided to walk home, a further distance than I normally would. The bus wasn’t coming, the weather was nice, and I thought the exercise would feel good. I turned on my music, but kept my headphones down around my neck so that they wouldn’t impede my ability to hear what was going on around me. I stayed in fairly populated, well-lit areas. I kept my shoulders back and my chin up so that I looked confident. I put my keys in my fist so that they would be out and ready if I needed to slash or punch anyone with them. I looked around frequently to keep an eye on any changes in my surroundings. I slowed down and veered to avoid any alcoves or darkened areas where someone had the potential to be hiding. I looked out for anyone in my vicinity and made a quick judgment of how easily they could overpower me, how likely I was to outrun them. I listened hard for new footsteps. I made close note of escape routes.

I spent the entirety of my pleasant walk home assessing my risk of being raped, robbed, or murdered. It bugs me that I found this necessary. But the thing that bugs me the most is knowing that there will be people who read this who think, “she’s being crazy/melodramatic/paranoid,” and they are almost certainly the same people who, if something terrible HAD happened to me on my walk, would think, “well, what did she expect to happen” or “she should have been more careful” or “she deserved it.”