On my way to my fall break destination last week, I experienced my second instance of stalking in my life. I was driving south on a rural stretch of I-65 when an old, muddy pick-up truck pulled parallel to my car. Since this mid-20s, male driver of this car did not seem in any hurry to pass me, I did what I was accustomed to doing in response to what I assumed was garden-variety bad driving and slowed down.

I began to get nervous when he slowed down too. While attempting to keep my face forward as much as possible, I glanced over to realize in fear that this man had his entire head turned sideways, staring at me while I drove. I attempted to quickly accelerate and quickly decelerate in hopes of separating myself from my still parallel pursuer, but he maintained his position and his gaze.

After a few miles of this disturbing standoff, I phoned a friend who advised me to find an exit where I could leave the interstate without signaling and hopefully achieve separation. I managed to finally do so and parked in a gas station while my pursuer continued out of sight.

As I sat in my car trying to regain my composure, a rush of thoughts went through my muddled mind. Why had he chosen me to follow? Is this how it is going to be every time I travel alone? What would have happened if I could not escape? And the question ever present on a woman’s mind: Will I ever be safe?

I don’t know the answers to all of those questions, but I do know one thing: I did nothing to invite this man’s attention or actions nor did I find them flattering in any way.

As I mentioned previously, this was the second instance of unwanted pursuit I had experienced in my life. The first was in high school when a classmate sat in his car outside of my house for an hour just because I smiled at him in the hallway earlier that week. Let that sink in: He thought I wanted to date him because I smiled at him.

Thankfully, I have never been harmed by these encounters, but I have resented these men for disturbing my peace of mind and making me question my ability to travel alone. For many, the outcomes are much more severe. Victims of long-term stalking can be fired or asked to leave their jobs due to the disturbance to their workplaces. According to the National Institute of Justice, 15 percent of stalkers threatened or attempted to harm the victim, and in 10 percent of cases the perpetrator attempted to sexually assault 
the victim.

As students between the ages of 18 and 24, we are at the greatest risk of being victims of stalking. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports “more than half of female victims and more than one-third of male victims of stalking say they were stalked before the 
age of 25.”

Stalking, sexual assault and domestic violence are issues that have been frequently discussed in this publication and others, and there are no easy solutions. Solving these problems will require early education in households and schools and a broader cultural shift away from misogyny, catcalling and objectification and toward empathy.

This will be difficult, but it’s not impossible. The effort required for this culture change will be worth it in a future where our daughters feel safe to travel and move freely in society, and when our sons grow up viewing women as equals and potential partners and not targets or trophies.

To those who think they have a right to unbridled pursuit: Don’t stalk me, bro.

Leigh Terry is a junior majoring in economics. Her column runs weekly.