Women Defending Their Bodies, Hitting Where It Hurts

One night in 2013, I was sitting on the A train in Brooklyn, headed to Bed-Stuy to visit a friend. It wasn’t late, around 8pm, but only two other men were in the same car. One walked directly toward me and sat down close to my left side. He put his mouth up to my ear and whispered something disgusting and explicit that, partially, I can’t remember, but also that I don’t want to repeat. I froze up like a mannequin; my heart beat fast. The other man further away didn’t seem