I will never not be afraid to leave the house alone. As I leave my sanctity behind me and step out onto the cold, hard concrete that is reality, I fear that today is the day I walk down the street or step out of my car and become another dismal statistic reaffirming what I already know—we live in an unsafe world. Unsafe for women.
Sure, I’ve always been a worrywart. To this day, my brain tends to assume the worst possible outcomes and fret about the unlikely. But frankly, I hate that my paranoia isn’t all that unfounded.
The UN estimates that around one in three women will experience some sort of physical or sexual violence, partner or non-partner, in their lifetime. They also state that roughly 263 million women worldwide who are fifteen years and older have experienced sexual violence from someone other than a partner. Women in online spaces fare even worse. In many countries, half or more than half of women present online report having experienced hate speech, harassment, inappropriate advances, or explicit, offensive messages at some point in their lives.
This fear of violence was worsened by a self-destructive period of true crime consumption spanning from age fourteen to seventeen that has permanently altered how I perceive public spaces. The most grotesque or serial cases almost always involved an unsuspecting female victim, and despite how horrified I felt, I couldn’t put the phone down. I was convinced I was educating myself, readying myself, preserving the stories of those who had passed, when really, I was compounding every possible anxiety a girl could possess. I highly discourage anyone from watching true crime content, especially the type that disrespectfully regurgitates the most vile details without consulting the family of victims.
So, while I like to think of myself as more rational, less vehemently paranoid, that fear will always persist. Some days it’s worse than others, particularly when the sun dies down, but it always lingers.
How do I cope? Headphones.
It sounds both ridiculous and obvious. Yes, headphones serve lots of functions. They play music, they call people, and they can even stifle sounds. But to me, headphones are… a secret, fourth thing.
Headphones are a crutch.
Sometimes, when I leave for class in the mornings, I pop in a singular earbud and listen to, well, nothing. Their presence alone is the insulation I need to face the world.
With that little white shape in my ear, I know now that the likelihood of someone flagging me down or trying to talk to me goes significantly down (at least I like to think so). Don’t get me wrong, if I see my friend, the AirPod comes right out, but until then, I am in a zone that gives me the confidence I need to hold my head high.
My affinity for headphones also has to do with the sound outside them. Walking home when it’s dark out, every little noise seems to have me on edge. Is that car slowing down behind me, or is it a stop sign? Was that the wind, or someone coming up to me? Where did those footsteps come from? Are they getting faster? Closer?
Obviously, ninety-nine percent of these fears are entirely fabricated, but once my headphones are on or an earbud is in, they all disappear. I’m too busy listening to Markiplier or Laufey or canceling out the sounds altogether to worry about the occasional honk, snap, or shuffle.
I should emphasize it’s important to listen responsibly. Blocking out all unwanted sounds also means you risk missing the important ones. Nothing keeps me safer than staying generally aware. When playing sound, try to keep one ear uncovered. If you cover both, don’t play sound. Always keep your gaze up. Your eyes are less likely to trick you than your ears.
The bottom line is, I have an interesting relationship with my headphones that has made me rather introspective. It may seem unhealthy to derive confidence from technology, but I say take what you can get these days. So, I’ll keep one ear open because my headphones make this world a little easier to bear.