Like many women, I grew up hearing messages from my family, peers, media, and others about how to keep myself safe. So much of the advice focused on restrictions and what not to do. Don’t go walking late at night. Don’t go places alone. Don’t go to parties or drink alcohol. Don’t wear a short skirt. Don’t go to the city. Don’t wear headphones because that might distract you. Don’t put your hair in a ponytail because it’s easy to grab. Don’t, don’t, don’t.
But I was born with the wanderlust gene – I wouldn’t be content staying in my small hometown. I had a deep desire to travel and see the world, explore big cities, and learn foreign languages, yet I was warned repeatedly that traveling wasn’t safe either. Giving up my dreams wasn’t realistic for me. It’s not realistic for anyone. We deserve better. Why should any of us live a smaller life because someone else might harm us?
Restrictions are impractical, ineffective, and harmful. There’s no evidence that these practices reduce violence, and they perpetuate problematic myths about what is safe and what is dangerous. For example, people often fear getting attacked by a stranger on the street while walking alone at night. However, data shows that approximately 80% of sexual abuse is committed by someone we know, not a stranger. And most violent crime actually happens in the afternoon and evening – logically, because that’s when people are most likely to be out and interacting with others. Even worse, restrictive advice blames victims who don’t adhere to the rules. It implies that people get assaulted because of what they wear, or where they go, or what they do, instead of focusing on the truth – people get assaulted because someone assaulted them.
What happens if you follow all those rules and restrictions, and still find yourself in a situation where someone is crossing your boundaries, behaving aggressively, or putting you in physical danger? This type of advice leaves us with a long list of things to avoid, and then we’re supposed to hope that things turn out all right. We’re supposed to rely on the goodness of other people to not harm us. Yet we’re not prepared with what to do if we do find ourselves in a dangerous situation. Restrictive advice encourages us to live smaller and entrust our safety to others, instead of equipping ourselves with tools to stay safe and live the lives we want.
Moving from an outlook of fear to one of unapologetic living is a journey. Mine started when I signed up for Taekwondo my freshman year of college because, for all possible reasons, my boyfriend at the time had a black belt. We broke up shortly after, but my interest in Taekwondo was already piqued. Taekwondo made me a more confident person, and I started to feel safer in the world because of the techniques I learned.
But spending years learning a martial art – which is a great thing to do for many reasons – isn’t practical, desirable, or accessible to everyone. The techniques I learned were powerful, certainly, but they took years of repetitive practice to learn effectively. I practiced them in highly controlled situations that didn’t feel reflective of real-life encounters. While I started to feel safer, I still had doubts whether I’d be able to access my martial arts skills in real life. I was scared that I would freeze up or miss the target. I also mistakenly believed that staying safe required overpowering an attacker, imagining a long, drawn-out fight that I would have to ‘win’ like a sparring match in competition.
Professionally, I became an evaluator and researcher, focused on issues relating to gender equality. When I discovered empowerment-based self-defense trainings, designed to reduce sexual violence, I was thrilled to see the best parts of my martial arts training reflected in the program. The physical skills were simplified so that anyone could learn them in a short time, and didn’t rely on size, power, or athletic ability but rather perseverance and spirit. I learned that defending ourselves didn’t mean “winning a fight” or “overpowering an attacker” as I’d previously thought, but quick action to interrupt a situation so that you can get to safety. More importantly, these workshops included much more than the physical self-defense training components – there was verbal resistance, threat recognition, and myth busting too. The best part was that the research showed that these were highly effective programs – reducing the incidence of rape by 47%, on average.
In the newest chapter of my personal journey, I decided that I wanted to teach these skills in my city, and that’s when I found Prepare. The padded instructor training, which simulates a real-life attack in a safe and controlled environment, showed me that yes, I could access my voice and my body in an adrenalized, dangerous situation. I could defend myself if needed.
With the peace of mind I’ve gained through the years, I’ve traveled to countries around the world and navigated some of the largest cities. My sense of peace has deepened knowing that I carry the ability to protect myself wherever I go. I don’t need to rely on others for my safety, I can rely on my own skills.
It saddens me every time I hear that fear for safety is what’s stopping someone from living freely. My hope is that not only will my students mitigate the violence they may encounter, but that they fulfill their dreams and live their biggest, boldest, most unapologetic lives.
Marissa Strniste, Lead Instructor