Thought I’d share a line of thinking I hadn’t followed in a while because I haven’t gone out much in the evenings since the birth of my daughter.
Last night I was pulling out some clean clothes to wear and putting a few things together by the front door so that I could quickly slip out of the house to check out a rock show at the Exchange, the first I’d been to in a while. “Ha ha, you’ve really gotta plan three moves in advance with this parent thing,” I thought, “I’ll have to leave just after the first band is done, I guess.”
Then I paused as it occurred to me that I’ll have to walk alone to my car in the warehouse district, which has a few bars nearby and not a lot of foot traffic on a night when people are likely partying after a Roughriders victory and at the show itself. It would more than suck to have to deal with any kind of assault, perhaps especially at this time of my life when my body has only just healed after birth and is responsible for the nourishment of a baby.
Next I had two quick reactions: maybe it wasn’t worth it and maybe I shouldn’t bother dressing nicely at all. How fucked up is that? Self-blaming, fearful thoughts. Anyway, thought I’d share what it’s like for many of us out there (and not just for privileged white women like me): we’re always planning three steps ahead and hoping for the best.