This post really took me back. I remember being harassed for the first time when I was about twelve, by a grown man on the street, loudly discussing my ass with his “friend”. There was no mistaking me for an adult. I was very obviously a child.

I went back to a moment when my family was at home one beautiful summer day, and we had our front door open, as we sat in the front room. I looked up to see a little girl, maybe about ten to twelve years old, standing in our doorway. She looked like she’d just got out of school for the day. She was terrified. She was crying, and begged one of us to walk her home, because she was afraid that a car was following her. She was so scared of what was happening that she went up to a group of total strangers to help her! I walked her home, and she was fine, but every now and then I think about her, and compare her to my twelve year old self. Is she okay? What influence, if any, I had on her life? Does she remember me? How did that event affect how she sees the world?