This Is A Man’s World

Missing out on seeing one of her favourite singers in concert, got Sue Pritchard thinking about what it means to be a woman in today’s world.

I almost got to see Harry Styles in concert last weekend.

I know this statement isn’t exactly headline-grabbing news, but for a couple of hours Friday morning I was so excited. Totally out of the blue, I had the opportunity to buy last minute tickets to see this singer, strutting his way across Wembley Stadium the next evening.

Unfortunately it wasn’t to be.

After frantically messaging friends and family who I thought might be interested in coming with me, I eventually realised I was going to have to stand Harry up.

Although my husband was busy, he’d also made it clear he had no interest in spending, or as he put it, wasting money on seeing a singer he didn’t like.

“Why don’t you go by yourself?” he suggested.

In response, the look I threw him said more than mere words could say.

Going Solo

In all fairness though, going it alone is something I’ve been doing more frequently. Determined to put myself first and do more of what I love in my menopausal years, I’ve since discovered this means going to events a lot of my friends and family have no interest in.

Previously, I probably would have given up and put my own desires to one side, but now I’m happy to buy a solitary ticket and spend time in my own company. And it’s something I’m beginning to enjoy as I learn to grow more comfortable in my own skin during my 50s.

But there’s always a but isn’t there?

I’m only happy to go alone if these events aren’t too late at night and are relatively easy to get to. This is why I didn’t get to see Harry. The concert itself would have been fine. I just didn’t want to travel back home alone on public transport from London, probably in the early hours of the morning. As I’d be feeling anxious about it all night it would spoil my enjoyment of the whole event.

It’s something I’ve come to realise most men never have to contemplate. My husband admits it’s never crossed his mind to avoid going anywhere in case he felt ill at ease. Some of my friends say their husbands don’t understand either when they ask for a lift, instead of walking somewhere close by when it’s dark.

Maybe it’s a generational hang up of growing up in the 1980s, when gruesome crimes against women were sensationalised in tabloid papers, in the days before our 24/7 exposure to the news.

Best-selling author Jojo Moyes recently admitted she’s spent a lot of her life feeling fearful too. When walking around her old hometown, she’d often have her door key in hand, ready to defend herself if need be.

I remember a similar incident in my teens when travelling by myself to what I thought would be some rough, remote area of London. Worried at the prospect of travelling in train carriages which were self-contained in those days, with no means of escape, I’d popped my trusty personal alarm in my coat pocket to make me feel safer.

Accidentally setting it off, on what turned out to be a rather busy train in the end, I scrabbled around to smother the screaming object into silence. With embarrassment colouring my cheeks, I had to avoid eye contact with my fellow deafened passengers who were probably more scared of me at this stage!

Watching The Bone Collector film the night before flying out to the US on a solo work trip, wasn’t the brightest of ideas either. I couldn’t get it out of my mind as I stood in the queue for a taxi outside Dulles International Airport, steadfastly trying to ignore the limo driver touting for business, and enticing people away from the official taxi rank into his unmarked car.

Feeling Vulnerable

It’s not a laughing matter though.

Like many women, I have been chased and threatened by men.

After a night out at a club when at university, I ended up riding in a police car home, with a reprimand from the officers who’d rescued me and my friends. We were told in no uncertain terms to always get a taxi and never try and save money by walking back in the early hours of the morning, even if there was several of us.

Feeling vulnerable is sadly an all too familiar occurrence for many women in this patriarchal world we live in.

Recently broken down and stranded on the side of the motorway for several hours, I was relieved I wasn’t alone – especially when a man stopped his car to see if the husband and I needed any help. I was also sickened to hear that cases of domestic violence against women increase in the UK when the men’s World Cup is on, and even more so when England lose their games.

Why is it that as women we have to learn not to provoke a bad mood, avoid certain places, dress appropriately, take self-defence lessons, and even avoid doing the things or going to the places we’d like to?

As comedian and author Cally Beaton says, how about men just stop hurting women and girls instead?

Stand Together

I did venture up to London one night recently, when my eldest daughter kindly agreed to come and see Donna Ashworth with me. Experiencing the rather common disruptions to public transport on our return journey home, the train station became increasingly rowdy as time ticked by, late on a Friday night.

A young woman travelling by herself came and stood near us, on the pretence of asking if we knew when the next train was due. She was from Finland and explained she’s travelled by herself the world over, many times before.

“I don’t feel very safe by myself this late at night though, “she admitted to us. “Do you mind if I come and talk with you? You both look friendly and normal,” she laughed.

Getting on the train together, our new friend obviously didn’t want to impose any further, so sat a few discrete seats away from us. I kept a watchful eye on her throughout the journey though, passing the occasional smile her way to let her know she wasn’t alone, as more drunken passengers piled on the train.

“It was lovely to meet you,” she stopped to tell us before disembarking at her stop. “Thanks so much for keeping me company.”

A Rallying Cry

It’s often easy to let our fears overwhelm us and look for the worst in any situation. But I also believe it’s equally important to listen if something doesn’t feel right. And I take heart from the fact that perhaps with mobile phones and tracking apps these days, my daughters are having a different experience to my generation.

But why is it that as women, we can only dream of a world where we feel safe both day and night, inside and outside of our own homes?

Until this changes, we almost need a rallying cry with a promise to have one another’s backs, and show this patriarchal world how strong we can be when women stand together.

Do what Harry says!

Treat people with kindness

Sue was lucky to see Harry Styles in concert in 2018