JcWoman, you make very valid points. Sadly, though, you don’t even have to have the bad experiences to be weary.
Don’t walk alone at night.
Don’t leave your drink unguarded at a party.
Make sure someone knows where you are when you go on a date with a man you don’t know well.
Probably best not to go out dressed like that, who knows what you’ll encourage!
Women are taught these things over and over again from the time we are sexually developing (before, in some cases), and male strangers wonder why we look at them like they’re all potential kidnaping, drugging, murdering, rapists? And of course, women go out into the world and find that it’s not completely true, but then again, just about any woman you asks has a scary story, a close call, or serious trauma in her past.
When I’m at a bar, or a party, and a man approaches me, it’s not really scary, because it’s socially appropriate, and lots of other people are around. We are (generally) there to mingle and talk. And as long as he respects a “no thanks,” reply to his ofter to buy me a drink (or whatever), then no harm no foul.
Now lets move this encounter to the park. I’m not there to mingle or talk - I’m there to enjoy nature, or exercise. There are people around, but not as many. A man approaches me - he looks normal, but how can I be sure? “Nice day out! You here to run?” he says. “Yup,” I say to be polite. I look around to make sure there are others in shouting distance. “Yeah, I can tell you work out, you look good.” Uh oh. Alarm bells. “Thanks,” I say, because we’ve got to uphold those social niceties. “Have a good day.” I walk away. Then, I spend the next ten minutes keeping an eye out to make sure he doesn’t following me on my run.
I don’t think most men would realize that they’d made me nervous - some would think I was simply uninterested, some would think I was a stone cold bitch, and some would walk away feeling wounded, internalizing. But they probably wouldn’t get that I was scared of them, because most men haven’t experienced being smaller and weaker than half of the population. They haven’t had their physical vulnerabilities drilled into them by society and culture and experience over and over again. Most men have never been held down and kissed, or had their ass pinched, or felt up against their will and known that there was no way to get away. And we can tell them what that’s like, but can they ever really know?