There was a viral question in 2024 asking women if they would rather be alone in the woods with a bear or a man. To the surprise of many men, when given the option, the majority of women choose the bear. 

Based on my personal experience as a woman living in today’s world, I would choose a bear every time. This popular metaphor seems funny, but in reality it highlights the inequalities women experience still in the 21st century. Women have fought for equal pay, equal job opportunities, and equal rights, and there has been some progress. These advancements seem to have lulled society into a false sense of contentment with the way women are treated today.

I was awakened to this reality on a summer afternoon. I was on my way home from a friend’s house, and I was almost out of gas. I had a gift card to a Shell gas station, so I stopped at the nearest one. 

I walked into the gas station in my orange tank top and grey sweatpants to prepay for my gas. I grabbed a drink and headed to the counter.

A tall older man walked in. As I was scrolling on my phone in the checkout line, I heard him whistle and say, “Looking good, baby girl.”

I cringed, but at that time I was not aware his words were directed at me. I set my drink on the counter and told the cashier I wanted $20 on pump 1. As I shuffled through my wallet to find my gift card, the same man aggressively reached over my back and set down his 6-pack of Modelo.

“Let me get that for you,” he said. I was flustered and politely declined. I informed him I had a gift card so I wasn’t really paying for my items either. He continued to persist and demanded to pay for my stuff as I still repeatedly declined. While part of me wanted to accept his offer and keep my gift card, I had a feeling that he might then think I owe him something.

During the back and forth, I attempted to pay. I was in the process of inserting my gift card when he grabbed my arm firmly, and raised his voice, again, demanding I let him pay. At this point, I began to worry. He had a firm grip on me. The man behind the counter said nothing and simply just watched as I, a sixteen-year-old girl, was harassed by and touched by a strange and aggressive grown man.

With my card finally in the machine, he threw my arm against the counter, calling me a “******* *****.” Once my payment went through, I grabbed my drink and ran out feeling disgusted and angry. I then questioned myself, is that rational? Am I being dramatic? I didn’t even pump my gas; instead, I got into my car and called my dad. Through tears and hiccups, I told him what happened. He said to stay in my car and wait till the man leaves to get my gas. He said I did the right thing not letting that man pay. I then watched the man parade out of the gas station seemingly unaffected as I ducked down in my car to hide from his view.

In his truck, he did a lap around the parking lot, windows down, music blaring. I sat in the fear and silence of my car, protected only by a locked door. I didn’t know the man’s intentions, but his words and actions were enough to scare me from feeling comfortable getting gas alone ever again. 

While never getting gas alone again is not realistic, the short interaction with this man instilled a lasting anxiety that has continued to alter my perception of doing things alone.

Men shape women’s fears of the world, through minor and major interactions. Fears that they, as men, will never understand.

Men do not fear going on runs with their only defense a pink pepper spray gripped in hand. Men do not remember to keep only one earbud in on a run or walk. They do not constantly check over their shoulder on an empty trail, for they do not fear anyone following them. 

Men do not feel the clump of anxiety rise in their throats as they walk to their car in a dark parking lot. They do not check from afar to make sure someone is not underneath. They do not worry about getting gas near the interstate.

Men do not worry about the consequences of the length of their skirts on a night out. Men do not worry about the contents of a drink that was handed to them at a party. 

Men do not have to make sure they are in groups of two as they walk anywhere past sunset. They do not analyze their rearview mirror after receiving a longing glance in a parking lot.

Women fear being raped, they fear being attacked, they fear being followed. The problem is not the things they fear (darkness, being alone), but who. There is a common factor uniting these fears: men. Without the presence of “evil/bad” men, these fears would dissipate.

All of this is to say that despite having “equal rights,” we are not equal. 

According to the National Sexual Violence Research Center, “approximately 1 in 5 (21.3% or an estimated 25.5 million) women in the U.S. reported completed or attempted rape at some point in their lifetime”, a staggering statistic that has proven accurate amongst myself and my peers. While some men do face sexual assault as well, the numbers do not begin to compare; the anti-sexual violence organization RAINN found, “82% of all juvenile victims are female” and “90% of adult rape victims are female.” On top of this, the Office for Victims of Crime reports that “only 16 percent of rapes are reported to police.”

Living in a world defined by these heartbreaking statistics means living in a world made for men. Every decision for women involves a “what if” moment. If my “what if” moment is choosing between “what if” I am stuck with a bear or a man in the woods, I am confidently choosing the bear. While not all men are bad, it is the job of parents and society to hold their sons to higher standards and shape them into individuals who do not contribute to the haunting statistics that define a woman’s life.

In school, we briefly discuss the evolution of women’s rights, but we don’t discuss the danger women face in the present. 

Not all women will face trauma, and not all men are bad. But to those who have been affected, let’s use our anger as fuel to speak out. Change is always possible, and it starts with recognizing the power and value of women. 

As women are the ones most affected, we need to use our voices to speak out and encourage others to do the same. While many of the horrific things that happen to women are uncomfortable to casually discuss, it is the responsibility of our younger generation to change the trajectory. I alone do not have the power to change the current state of violence toward women, but I do have a voice, and this is me using it.

To be a woman by today’s standards means to stand strong for what I believe, but not act like a feminist. It means to be nice to everyone, but not too nice. It means to cover up, but not dress too modestly. It means to be confident, but don’t step on anyone’s toes. It means times have changed, but have they really? I am proud to be a woman, but I am also fearful of the world I live in as a woman. Women are kind, generous, and intellectual individuals with power and voice.

I once thought these common experiences and these daily fears were just part of being a woman. I know now that while they are deemed “normal,” they are not ‘acceptable.”

It’s time for change. Women need to share their experiences, and we all need to believe women when they do. Men need to treat women better and acknowledge that women’s issues are real, even if they don’t personally experience them. We all must recognize that “the way things have always been,” is not the way they should always be.