Being catcalled and wolf whistled by vanloads of middle aged men from the age of 11 whist walking home in school uniform.
Having a suited ‘respectable’-looking man in his 60s put his hand up my skirt and his fingers in my vagina on a packed tube train when I was 19.
Having a manager in his thirties do the same when I was working in a supermarket and had to pass him on a dark back stairway with no one else around. I was 16.
Having a man I barely knew (and wasn’t with) violently grab me by the throat and push me against a wall when I declined to watch him masturbate, and then having to wake a houseful of people in order to get a cab because I felt so panicked and unsafe.
Having a prospective supplier put his hand on my thigh and patronise me to an astonishing degree in front of a roomful of men during a business meeting.
Having to have an arse-clenchingly awful conversation about pay alignment and equity upon realising quite how much less I was being compensated than my male peers.
A hundred thousand moments of hypervigilance (and occasionally sweaty-palmed fear) just navigating a way through the world - empty streets, public transport, woodland walks, multi-storey car parks, hotel room locks when away on business (thanks to overfamiliar male staff with access keys), being alone in a lift at night, cab rides - the whole fucking shebang. I can’t imagine not having a permanently switched on sixth sense, and just obliviously doing what I want, when I want, without making automatic - almost subconscious - micro calculations of risk.