Scary World

I read a little piece today about the supposed irony of women relying on men to protect them from other men. The author compared this practice to the security she felt when walking her “doofus” pitbull.

I would like to say that I am not in any way like a pitbull, even the “doofus” lovable variety. I’m a 5’4” 48 year old arthritic human being. Today I’m experiencing tennis elbow even though I don’t play tennis. Even in my younger days, I wasn’t very strong or athletic. If I ever took it into my head to jump on someone, I’d probably trip over my own shoelaces.

If I were to walk a frightened female to her car late one night, I would wonder what exactly she would expect me to do if we were attacked. Scream? Cry? Beg for mercy? Surely she wouldn’t expect me to fight off a dangerous thug who would go after strangers in a parking lot…because that’s not going to happen. Not unless we had a bat with us, and she could probably swing it better and with more force than I could. (Remember the arthritis and the stiff, aching elbows.) And after she got in her car, I would wonder who would walk *me* home because I’m pretty afraid myself.

We’re not all dumb beasts with strong, ripped, superhero bodies and fierce temperaments. That is a stereotype, and many of us do not fit it. For many of us, the world is a dangerous place and has been from earliest childhood, and we don’t expect a lot of sympathy because there’s precious little for the “doofus pitbulls” of the world even when they’re more like timid rabbits. The next time you’re afraid to walk to your car at night, imagine living in a world where everyone simply expected you to take care of yourself, a world where not even one bigger and stronger friend would offer to walk with you in a million years, a world where others would shame you if you accepted such help in the unlikely event it was offered, a world where others not only didn’t care about the dangers you faced but actually mercilessly ridiculed you for even admitting you were afraid.