You see it when you see it

Last week we were sitting on a terrace, having drinks. We were with the six of us. Five different nationalities. Lots of stories, fun and all those accents.
Let’s call them Tim, Sean, Merat, Anna, Hans… and me.

At some point, the mood shifted.
Anna, a very bubbly and beautiful woman, suddenly started stuttering. Her eyes moved away from us, over our shoulders.

We asked her what was happening. She hesitated.
Then she said: “I can’t believe this… but that guy over there… I met him last week.”
She pointed with her head to a table behind us.

Her story was a story many women might recognize instantly.
But not everyone at the table did.

She met the guy at a private business function. She was having drinks afterwards and the guy came over to talk to her. He had been pushy. Tried to be funny but too much in her space. Not taking no for an answer.

She had felt unsafe. So uncomfortable that, in the end, she needed help to get out of the situation. He was asked to leave.

And now he was sitting there again. In her face.
“I feel exposed,” she said. “And actually a bit vulnerable.”

There was a silence. Tim looked genuinely confused. He looked so, well actually, unaware. He is a true gentleman, always polite and entertaining with clear understanding of boundaries with women.

“I had no idea this happens,” he said.
“I’ve never really seen it. Never noticed it.”

And in that moment, something became very clear to me.

It’s not that men don’t care. Often, they simply don’t see.
Because it’s not part of their daily reality. Not part of how they move through the world.

Tim, and the other men at the table, were raised to treat women with respect.
And they do.

By the end of the evening, something had shifted.
“Now I know,” Tim said. “And I’ll pay attention. I’ll step in if needed.”
Sean nodded. Merat as well. Something landed.

And I sat there, realizing this:

Maybe we expect understanding, without always sharing the full experience.
Maybe we assume they know, how it feels to be vulnerable or to be pushed past your boundaries.

So this is not about blame.
It’s about awareness.

About speaking up. Telling the stories. So others can understand what it feels like. Not to gain pity. No, not at all.

And maybe, also, about men supporting each other differently.
Not through jokes or brushing it off, but by being willing to see.

Because safety is not something we create alone.
It’s something we build together.