Do you really think I’m not afraid of men? Why? Because I speak as loudly as you do? Because I took the train up and walked here alone at midnight? Because I’m sleeping at your house tonight?
None of these things mean I don’t fear men. I spend time every day being afraid of men. Inside, outside, I make choices about where I go and what I do based on it. I loathe myself a little bit every day based on it. I write a blog because of all the feelings surrounding it. And you think that just because I’m brazen none of that exists?
Loving and being afraid of men in this world is like cleaning wax off this candle. You want the pleasure of it but you know that you’re playing with fire. The heat is always there, sometimes it’s a draw but you never forget how quickly it can turn on you, not even in it’s warmest moments do you forget the damage you’ve seen it cause. So you touch it because the pleasures are great, but you watch it carefully because the fear is great too.
If no woman in your life has ever talked to you about how she lives her life with an undercurrent of fear of men, consider the possibility that it may be because she sees you as one of those men she cannot really trust.
-Chris Clarke, How Not To Be An Asshole: A Guide For Men