I’ve been sexually assaulted three times by males outside the home, all on the lower level end of the spectrum (breasts groped / hand up skirt type of thing). I didn’t report any of them because what’s the point? When rapes barely make it to court, let alone secure a conviction, why put myself through the grief of reporting it for the likelihood of nothing coming from the report?
I can’t even count the amount of harassment that stopped short of assault I’ve had from men over my lifetime. Stuff like the encounter I described above on the train, “give us a kiss darling”, “get your tits out” catcalling, being followed...if I’d reported it all, especially when I was younger, I’d have never been out of the police station. But I didn’t, at least in part because when I was younger it was just “what blokes did”. Instead I quietly, and often without even realising I was doing it at the time, developed strategies to try and reduce the likelihood of being exposed to it. And it’s those strategies I would be able to forget about for a night in the hypothetical curfew world. I probably wouldn’t even know how fully free I’d feel until I was in that situation, because some of the things I do are just ingrained now, second nature, tiny little modifications to my behaviour that I just consider “sensible precautions” if I don’t think too deeply about them but are actually responses to being on the receiving end of even mildly predatory behaviour. (If I do think more deeply about it I get fucking angry about it!)