(A conversation)

Her: “You know what happened today?”

Him: “Let me guess, another guy at the office tried to flirt with you?”

Her: (sighs) “Yes, and it’s not like I encourage it. I don’t get why this keeps happening.”

Him: “Honestly, don’t you think this happens too often with you? I mean, I don’t hear other women complaining about this as much as you do. Maybe there’s something you’re doing that’s giving the wrong impression?”

Her: (pauses) “What does that even mean? Are you saying it’s my fault?”

Him: “I’m not blaming you, but… you have to admit, it’s strange. Why do so many men feel comfortable approaching you like this? It’s not normal.”

Her: “Normal? How do you define normal? And do you think I enjoy this attention? It’s exhausting! I’m polite, I’m friendly—that’s all. Why is that seen as an invitation?”

As I reflect on this fictional conversation, I realize how many layers this issue has. I’ve heard variations of it before, both in my personal life and through stories shared by friends. Being a single woman, especially one in her mid-40s, seems to come with a peculiar kind of social scrutiny. If you’re approached by men—whether at work, during commutes, or even at the grocery store—people start to question you.

“Maybe you’re too nice.”
“Do you dress a certain way?”
“Why don’t other women experience this as much?”

But the deeper question is: Is this really about me, or is it about how society perceives single women?

In professional settings, boundaries are supposed to be clear. Yet, time and again, I’ve faced men who blur these lines. Sometimes, it starts innocently—a casual conversation about work, a shared laugh over coffee. Then, suddenly, there’s a comment about how “different” I am or a joke about how I’m “too pretty to be single.”

Do I shut them down immediately? Most of the time, yes. But here’s the tricky part: shutting someone down often comes with consequences. Maybe it’s subtle, like a shift in their attitude at meetings, or blatant, like being excluded from certain opportunities. So, I’ve learned to navigate these situations with care—polite but firm.

Yet, no matter how professional I am, there’s always someone who misinterprets kindness for interest.

Him: “But why does it happen so often to you? It’s not like all single women face this, right?”

Her: “Maybe not all, but many do. It’s just that not everyone talks about it. And even if they do, they’re often dismissed—like you’re doing to me right now!”

Him: “Maybe they think you’re approachable because you’re alone. Other women might be more guarded or less open to conversation.”

Her: “So what? Should I stop being approachable altogether? Should I start walking around with a ‘Don’t talk to me’ sign? Why should I have to change?”

There’s a stereotype about single women, especially those who are independent and confident. Some men see us as “available” or “easy targets.” They assume that because we’re single, we’re somehow incomplete, waiting for a man to come along and fill the void.

Her: “It’s not me; it’s the way society views single women. We’re seen as fair game—like we’re waiting to be ‘rescued.’ And when we reject them, we’re suddenly ‘too picky’ or ‘intimidating.’”

Him: “I get that, but you have to admit, some women don’t deal with this as much. Why do you think that is?”

Her: “Maybe it’s because they’ve found ways to shrink themselves—to avoid standing out. Or maybe they just don’t talk about it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

The issue, at its core, isn’t about me. It’s about a culture where some men feel entitled to a woman’s time, attention, and, ultimately, her body.

Think about it: how often do men feel compelled to approach a married woman or a woman with a visible partner? The ring on her finger or the presence of a man beside her acts as a shield. But a single woman? She’s “fair game.”

Her: “Do you see now? It’s not about me or what I’m doing. It’s about how single women are perceived—as if we’re waiting to be claimed.”

Him: “I guess I never thought about it that way. But doesn’t it bother you that it happens so much?”

Her: “Of course, it does! But what bothers me more is being blamed for it—as if I’m doing something wrong by just existing.”

What needs to Change? This isn’t just my story. It’s the story of countless women who navigate a world that often doesn’t respect their boundaries.

So, what can we do?

1. Challenge Stereotypes: We need to break the notion that single women are “waiting” for someone. We’re complete, whole individuals, not puzzles missing a piece.
2. Educate Men: Men need to understand that kindness isn’t an invitation, and rejection isn’t an insult.
3. Support Each Other: Women need to share their stories and stand together. The more we talk about these issues, the harder it becomes to dismiss them.
4. Hold People Accountable: Whether it’s at work or in public, inappropriate behavior should have consequences. Silence only enables the cycle to continue.

Him: “I never realized how much you have to deal with. I guess I’ve been looking at it all wrong—thinking it’s about you, when it’s really about how society treats women like you.”

Her: “Exactly. So, instead of questioning me, why not question the system that allows this to happen?”

Him: “You’re right. I’ll do better.”

Her: (smiles) “That’s all I ask.”

Writing this conversation has been cathartic. It’s a reminder that the problem isn’t us—it’s the culture we live in. But change starts with conversations like these. If we can help even one person see the world through a different lens, it’s a step in the right direction.

So, to anyone reading this: the next time you see a single woman being approached or harassed, don’t ask, “What’s wrong with her?” Instead, ask, “What’s wrong with our society?”