Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett/

The Guardian, UK

Challenging an entitled man can put you at risk. What happened to Marie Laguerre is what frightens us most

Many women have been in a situation where a man has approached them, only for it to turn uncomfortable when they reject his advances. No doubt I will be accused of generalisation in saying this, so I would advise those who don’t believe me to ask women they know about their experiences of rejecting men.

Male reactions can range from verbal abuse (counterintuitively, “slut” seems to be the insult of choice when a woman declines an offer of sex from a man in the street), to refusing to take no for an answer, harassment, stalking and physical violence. The last of these reactions is the most extreme and the one many of us fear most.

This week, video footage of a 22-year-old Parisian woman, Marie Laguerre, telling a stranger to “shut up” as he made sexual comments towards her, only for him to throw an ashtray at her from a nearby bar table, follow her and then hit her, went viral on the internet. The incident has caused an uproar in France, where street harassment has increasingly become a point of discussion. There has been a poster campaign against sexual harassment on public transport, and there are helplines and text reporting systems in place. In addition, new legislation will outlaw “annoying, following and threatening” a woman, and making sexist comments, and on-the-spot fines will be given.

Street harassment is especially bad in Paris. I know – I have lived there. It was all too common to be followed, berated with sexual comments and groped. “Do you want to pass her round?” a group of men asked my then boyfriend as we walked down a street one evening. It still makes me feel sick to think of it. A friend was pushed up against the wall in a Metro station and had a hand shoved up her skirt.

It is gratifying to see the French government doing something about it, finally. The video not only highlights the problem of street harassment, but also women’s fear of rejecting men. Men are generally bigger and stronger, and their size intimidates. Some men realise this, others don’t.

I remember a story I was told at university by a young man who would run home when he was drunk. One night, when he was running through north London he saw a woman running ahead of him. He assumed she was out for a jog, but when he overtook her, he saw that she was in fact crying. The reason for her distress was that she had been trying to run away from him; for her life.

We used to laugh at this, the idea that this somewhat feckless, harmless man could be perceived as so frightening. But having suffered some of the long-term health implications of being attacked, I don’t find it funny any more. When you combine the larger male physique with rejection and a bruised ego, the situation can become frightening and violent. There are men who take rejection with good grace, of course. But not enough of them. And so women learn to smile and look down, to defuse the situation with soothing words and platitudes, to make our bodies smaller, to comply. We undertake the emotional labour of minimising men’s feelings of pain and humiliation.

Some women are assertive or respond defiantly, but this carries a risk, of which women are always cognisant. This is why, in the midst of the #MeToo revelations, the people who said, “Why didn’t she leave?” or “If it were me, I would’ve kneed him in the balls,” appeared so wrongheaded. When you are frightened, your thought process can come down to “comply or die”.

Laguerre stood her ground. She was assertive, calm and controlled – and good for her. But there is no right or wrong reaction to an incident like this. For, as long as certain toxic men feel a sense of entitlement to women’s bodies, a woman who has the audacity to challenge that core belief will be at risk. That sense of entitlement is what society must continue to try and dismantle.

Good progress is being made on teaching consent in schools. But ultimately it comes down to men treating women with respect and regarding them as equals with agency over their bodies. Unfortunately this sort of sea change can take generations, especially when it is undermined by the surrounding visual culture.

When I was attacked, it began with a demand for a cigarette. It escalated to the point where I was on my back on the pavement, being strangled. Not even a decent man who takes rejection with good grace can tell me, or any other woman, that our fear of violence is unfounded. We know what rejected men can do – we have seen what can happen. And many of us have felt it.