05/11/2025
This is a powerful read which sadly resonated with me as Iâm sure it does with countless other women
Dear Mr Drunk Man on the Train Last Night,
Yes, I did hear your friend say, âLook whoâs just sat down in front of you â theyâre going to regret that.â
And yes, I (and the entire carriage) also heard your music blaring through your speaker, your off-key singing, the swearing, and the loud conversation that filled every inch of that small space.
We all just wanted to get home in peace. Instead, we had to share the journey with six of you â all, as it turned out, Mr Drunk Men.
When you decided you wanted to talk to me, I didnât respond. Not the first, second, third, fourth, or even fifth time you called out âHey, Green Lady!â I understand it probably took you a moment to process what youâd do next. But reaching your arm back to grab mine and repeating âHey, Green Lady!â wasnât it.
And yes, I was surprised at your surprise when I said, clearly and loudly:
âCan you leave me alone, please.â
I could have moved â but that could have attracted even more attention. I didnât want to be followed or shouted at as I changed seats.
I had to think very carefully about how to respond when you touched me. Too friendly, and Iâd have invited you to continue. Too direct, and Iâd have been the one accused of being rude â or worse, called a le***an, as I have been before when I didnât want a man to buy me a drink. (Back when âbeing a le***anâ was still used as an insult. To be clear: I do not view being called a le***an an insult but it was intended to be so 25 years ago when my friend and I did not want the attention nor the drinks we we were offered.)
While you laughed with your friends, I was quietly checking my phone â making sure my husband (who, thankfully, was in the country this week) was waiting at the station to pick me up. Because I didnât know when you and your friends would get off. I didnât know if Iâd find myself on a dark platform, alone, with six drunk men.
I am a woman who has experienced this kind of thing more times than I can count.
Because â and this is important â in all my years, I have never been catcalled by a woman.
I have never been cornered, groped, or shouted at by a woman leaning out of a van window.
I have never been made to feel unsafe on public transport because of a womanâs entitlement to my time, my space, or my silence.
Mr Drunk Man, you do not have an automatic right to my attention.
You do not have the right to my conversation, my eye contact, or my body.
I had my back to you. I did not engage. I was using my phone so was âbusy.â I ignored every attempt before you decided to touch me.
There was nothing else I could have done to show that I did not want your attention.
And before society â or the patriarchy â rushes to question me, letâs be clear:
I was a woman travelling alone, in a long dress, a tweed winter coat, a large scarf, and trainers.
Iâd had no alcohol. I was travelling home later than Iâd planned because of train delays.
There was nothing about my appearance that âinvitedâ comment. (Though apparently, wearing green was enough.)
Because hereâs the truth:
Even when none of the stereotypical excuses apply â not the clothes, not the time, not the drink â some men still behave this way.
It isnât about what women do.
Itâs about what some *men* feel entitled to do.
You may know that youâre actually a very nice man â when you havenât been âdrinking since 4pm.â
You may know that youâd never do anything to hurt a woman, and you may believe your friends would stop you if you crossed a line.
(Though, just to be clear, not one of your friends said âLeave it, mate, itâs clear she doesnât want to talk to youâ last night.)
But I donât know that.
And thatâs the point.
Thatâs why men need to behave when theyâre out and about.
Because I donât know if youâre one of the good ones.
I donât know if youâre the kind who starts with banter and ends with violence.
And because of that, I have to live my life as though you might be.
The train guard did come and ask you to turn the music down, and I understand why he might have been nervous â only the night before, a man stabbed several people on a train.
But as soon as he left, the swearing, jeering, and music started again.
And the rest of us â the women, the tired workers, the anxious passengers â just kept our eyes down and waited for it to end.
Because thatâs what weâve learned to do.
Because you never know when âbanterâ will stop being harmless.
And because too often, menâs entitlement still outweighs womenâs right to safety.
Emma
The Autistic SENCo
âŸïž
Photo: Me on the train last night.
