05/11/2025
This is a powerful read which sadly resonated with me as I’m sure it does with countless other women
Dear Mr Drunk Man on the Train Last Night,
Yes, I did hear your friend say, “Look who’s just sat down in front of you — they’re going to regret that.”
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 — all, as it turned out, Mr Drunk Men.
When you decided you wanted to talk to me, I didn’t respond. Not the first, second, third, fourth, or even fifth time you called out “Hey, Green Lady!” I understand it probably took you a moment to process what you’d do next. But reaching your arm back to grab mine and repeating “Hey, Green Lady!” wasn’t it.
And yes, I was surprised at your surprise when I said, clearly and loudly:
“Can you leave me alone, please.”
I could have moved — but that could have attracted even more attention. I didn’t 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 I’d have invited you to continue. Too direct, and I’d have been the one accused of being rude — or worse, called a le***an, as I have been before when I didn’t want a man to buy me a drink. (Back when “being a le***an” 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 — making sure my husband (who, thankfully, was in the country this week) was waiting at the station to pick me up. Because I didn’t know when you and your friends would get off. I didn’t know if I’d 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 — and this is important — 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 woman’s 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 ‘busy.’ 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 — or the patriarchy — rushes to question me, let’s be clear:
I was a woman travelling alone, in a long dress, a tweed winter coat, a large scarf, and trainers.
I’d had no alcohol. I was travelling home later than I’d planned because of train delays.
There was nothing about my appearance that “invited” comment. (Though apparently, wearing green was enough.)
Because here’s the truth:
Even when none of the stereotypical excuses apply — not the clothes, not the time, not the drink — some men still behave this way.
It isn’t about what women do.
It’s about what some *men* feel entitled to do.
You may know that you’re actually a very nice man — when you haven’t been “drinking since 4pm.”
You may know that you’d 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 “Leave it, mate, it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk to you” last night.)
But I don’t know that.
And that’s the point.
That’s why men need to behave when they’re out and about.
Because I don’t know if you’re one of the good ones.
I don’t know if you’re 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 — 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 — the women, the tired workers, the anxious passengers — just kept our eyes down and waited for it to end.
Because that’s what we’ve learned to do.
Because you never know when “banter” will stop being harmless.
And because too often, men’s entitlement still outweighs women’s right to safety.
Emma
The Autistic SENCo
♾️
Photo: Me on the train last night.
