In Being Latina, Life & Relationships

10 Things Women Worry About

Despite popular and ignorant belief, women are not only worried about their hair looking good and their outfits being fly as shit. We are constantly worried about things men wouldn’t even think twice about. So here you go, what Women REALLY worry about. I want to add that it was quite difficult to come up with this list — not because there’s lack of shit we worry about, but because it’s so normal for us. It doesn’t seem like an extra worry. It’s just part of who we are.

1. Walking to our car late at night: Whether we’re leaving a friend’s house or an event for work — we dread the thought of walking to our car. We have to constantly be aware of our surroundings and ensure no one tries to jump in the car with us or take us before we’ve even made it inside.

2. Going for a walk/run: As women, we’ve come to accept (sad AF) that if we’re out on the street, alone or with girlfriends, we’re most likely going to get honked or yelled at for NO legitimate reason. Just FYI no girl ever said — damn, he honked at me and I knew he was the one.

3. Being followed: Whether we’re in the grocery store, the mall, library, or even school — we run the risk of being followed. One time, while parking at school, I noticed a guy decided to park right next to me even though there were many spots around us. Being awkward, I decided I would just wait in my car till he left because I still had to get my bag together, and again, I’m awkward. He was taking too long to get out and I couldn’t wait much longer. I proceed to open my door and get out… and he does too. I start walking away and he quickly starts walking away too. I get this unsettling feeling in my stomach and I rush back to my car (because I still had to take 5 flights of stairs down) and I pretended I had forgotten something. He does the same. As soon as he pretended to get something out of his car — I booked it. Fled.I was fucken OUT. I remember power walking down those stairs. Why would he mimic my every action? It creeped the fuck outta me. I was shook.

4. Sending mixed signals: For some odd reason being a nice human translates to “I want you.” When we make it clear that we only like you as a friend we’re accused of being teases. Nah bro, you’re just an idiot.

5. Meeting with men alone: In any situation that involves meeting with a man alone (even for business), it heightens my awareness. I feel like I have to anticipate something happening and plan an escape route. In the wake of all the Harvey Weinstein shit going on, it further proves that fear.

6. Creeps at the gym: I don’t feel that I truly need to elaborate on this. Actually, yes, I will. A woman that makes fitness videos on IG had posted that these guys were recording her work out. RECORDING HER — and she caught them in the act and shared the video. In what world is that okay?

7. Being harassed at work: Whether that means facing unwanted advances from your co-workers or even worse, your boss. At a previous job, my boss asked me when I was going to give him a “shot.” Bro, I’m just trying to make my coins and be out, ya nasty ass.

8. Coming off as a “bitch”: We’re so (not all of us, but the majority) afraid of coming off as bitchy because it goes against what we’ve told we need to be. Even the strongest women sometimes catch themselves saying “wait, does that come off rude?” Like, fuck that. Say what you’re feeling. Let’s stop censoring our thoughts.

9. Bars/Clubs: So going out to clubs/bars is a tricky situation. We may be in the mood to get dressed up (for ourselves) and shimmy the stress from work away. Going to a bar/club doesn’t  mean we’re trying to be groped, grabbed by our hands, or that we want unsolicited grinding on us. Some guys get pissed if you decline and then try to make you feel dumb for going out and not wanting to dance/talk to guys. Let me just state this — fuck off. No, really. That’s all I got. Now let me get back to backing that thang up.

10. Taking public transportation: Please read this real-life story written by one of my besties Wendy Maya.


“I don’t trust men,” I tell him. He gives me a look in disbelief. He can’t fathom what it’s like to have grown ass men catcalling you and harassing you on the walk to school. You were wearing a hoodie and jeans, a brisk fall morning, when they rolled down the window and shout to you ‘tsk tsssk, chula!’ I flip them off. It makes me angry. I’m only 14. I went home and told my stepdad. I told him it makes me nervous. I don’t feel safe. He ask me, “but, what were you wearing?!” It’s my fault. I cry in the shower before bed. The men in my life will not protect me. They don’t give a fuck about me.

I was waiting for the train and I’m standing next to a bench. He comes over and sits down. The station is empty except for two other men in the distance. I would usually consider this suspect but I don’t listen to my paranoia this one time. I feel his hand slip up my left thigh on the way to my ass. Before he reaches it, I flip out on him “WHAT THE FUCK?! Don’t fucking touch me, I don’t fucking know you!!” I scream loud enough so the other people hear me. This kid is high and just walks away from me. I’m fuming. I’m shaking. I feel helpless. He’s not much bigger- a small frame for a man. But I know he can still overpower me. I stand there. Alone. The other adult men in the vicinity glance but stay silent. No one asks me if I’m okay, if I need help. No one challenges him. I go over and take his picture. I call to report the incident later. The sheriffs are on their way, but I live down the block. I go home to drop off my things and then return with my boyfriend, S.

The sheriffs make me feel stupid. “But was it a sexual touch? Was he touching himself? Did he say anything?”

-“I don’t know HIM! I don’t usually let men I don’t know TOUCH MY THIGHS!” What the fuck. It feels like victim blaming. I show them his pictures. They take the report, but it will probably go into a file. They won’t pursue him even though there are cameras and we are near a school. He might try this again and she might be underage next time. I’m 28.

That night I argue with S. I don’t remember how it starts but he asks me, ‘if they find him, will you press charges?’ “You know how it goes for men of color. He brings up the prison industrial system. Are you fucking kidding me?! NOW is not the time for this conversation. This asshole put his hands on me, made me feel unsafe and you’re fucking worried about whether he’ll get locked up or not? We argue. He tries to act like he understands. “Remember that time during carnaval, when they guy came up behind T and grabbed her?” he reminds me how he swung at that guy. Furious and ready- he defended our friend. He tells me stories of other friends that have been harassed while he was present. His voice changes and he is visibly angry at witnessing this. But not enough to give a fuck about me. You’re a fucking coward, I think. Within months, this all falls apart.

He tells about that gig that he worked. He said it was the worst- L.A. PRIDE. He tells me how the attendants made him feel uncomfortable by assuming he was gay too. They asked him if he was a top or a bottom. It infuriated him. He tells me this story… I wonder if he’s homophobic. He denies it. “You were uncomfortable because for the first time in your life, you were being sexualized & objectified by someone you don’t desire. This is what it’s like to be a WOMAN every single day.” He tries to argue but I’ve seen this many times before. It is he who I tell,  “I don’t trust men.” I tell him the story about my step father, the story of the guy who grabbed me on the station waiting for the train. I tell him about the assholes that tell me to smile. I tell him it’s insulting and misogynistic.  He says, “but I don’t see it like that.” You’re not a woman! I tell him countless other stories. We’re at Barney’s and somehow this has come up again. He refuses to acknowledge that we, women, who have to constantly put up with this garbage- would have any insight into this situation. I tell him to trust me, “I am telling you how this makes me feel. I am letting you know, WE DON’T LIKE IT!” I become frustrated and now I’m crying at the bar. We close our tab and leave. We’re on our way to a concert in DTLA. We take the red line… I tell him how every time I go into the train, before I sit next to someone, I wonder if they will touch me, grab at me, …. I try not to sit by men. I don’t trust them anymore.

Please note, this will be an ongoing series — if you’d like to submit what worries you email us at Stay safe and strong, my Women.

Love, Jocelyn

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Posted on February 3, 2017

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