—
Can I just start by saying that no one truly enjoys being scared? No one enjoys breathing like a 100-year old smoker who just sprinted up a set of stairs while also feeling like their heart just might burst out of their chest this time.
I’m not saying that sometimes, watching people get scared isn’t hilarious. I’m a huge fan of the annual Ellen DeGeneres Haunted House videos.
However, I despise being scared more than most people. My whole life, I’ve been jumpy, flinchy, or even skittish. My mother has told stories about scaring me as child and how I went stiff as a board only to fall down. Needless to say, on top of hating it, I have THE worst reaction. I fall and, yes, there are usually tears involved. Most people have that fight or flight instinct. Not me, I’ll crumple to ground and cry.
Now when co-workers or friends or classmates figure this out, it is usually inadvertent. They caught me blasting my music in my headphones as I powerwalk across campus and tapped my shoulder, or I was so absorbed in my work and totally didn’t hear them coming up behind me. After people have had their laugh, I’ve noticed a trend though and that’s one that scares me even more.
Every time, at least one man, says “Now, I’m going to try to scare you.”
Scaring now shifts from an innocent accident to an imbalance of power. One where you know a weakness of mine and intentionally chose to exploit it for nothing more than your own amusement.
The thing is that most men, and even some women, don’t think about why I’m so incredibly jumpy. Have you ever stopped to consider that? Why when you make a sudden movement towards me, I flinch? Or when you touch me, and I didn’t see it coming so I’ve launched myself out of my chair and dropped everything in my hands in the process? Or when you hit my shoulder passing me in the halls and I feel like I’m going to faint?
This is what I want you to think about next time you scare me. That may be one time someone was not joking. That maybe it wasn’t in light-hearted fun. That their intention was to invade my personal space and there was nothing I could do about it. That the person who brushed by me one time was my attacker.
You see I’ve been the girl before who played along with it, allowed everyone to have a good laugh at my expense as I tried to breathe and pick myself up off the floor. But then, I allowed it once, so I’ve had male co-workers slap my a** so hard and so unexpectedly that I’ve dropped a tray of waters for my table on my way down. Of course, that only makes it funnier, right? I’ve bruised and injured myself, falling to get away from people who are intentionally trying to scare me because my reaction is funny.
You don’t understand. To me, it’s not funny. To me, it’s not all fun and games. To me, I’m panting and feeling my heart beat out of my chest just like you would but sometimes I’m no longer seeing you, the co-worker or friend or classmate that thought this was a joke. I’m seeing him. And by scaring me too, you are reinforcing in my brain that you are dangerous to me. That you, who is in all likelihood bigger and stronger, are a threat.
So just know that the instant you intentionally scare me after I’ve asked you not to, I learn that I can no longer trust you.
If you have ever met a woman like me, who has been known to jump at the sight of her own shadow, think before you scare her for your pleasure. You don’t know what she’s seeing when you do. But I can assure, the end result is the same—you have ensured your position as a threat to her.
—
◊♦◊
Get the best stories from The Good Men Project delivered straight to your inbox, here.
◊♦◊
◊♦◊
Sign up for our Writing Prompts email to receive writing inspiration in your inbox twice per week.
—
Photo credit: Getty Images