The Harassment Report

The first time I told my mother that I filed a harassment report at the police station,
She screamed in shock and made a big scene.
“You’re bringing shame upon the family!”
“You’re disgracing your father even after his death!”
“How could you go to a police station?”
“How could a well-mannered girl who comes from a good family go to a police station?”

It’s just a police station, mama.
It’s not a brothel.
I went to file a report against someone who physically harassed me.
“If only you’d think straight,”
“If only you were veiled,”
“If only you’d wear more modest clothes.”
You’re fifty two years old and you’re veiled, mama.
But that didn’t stop you from getting harassed.
I don’t get it.

x
Warning The stories on our story archive could contain potentially sensitive and/or triggering material. If a story causes you discomfort or pain, please remember to breathe and check in with yourself before continuing or stop reading completely if necessary.