Musings on a privilege

I have read quite a lot of stuff on the internet written by or about women who get hit on a lot. I particularly like this one explaining what it's like with a metaphor about coffee and evangelists.

I don't get hit on a lot. There was a period in my life when I did get hit on quite a lot by friends and acquaintances. But even then, few or no strangers hit on me. These days all my friends and acquaintances know I'm happily monogamous. So that amounts to pretty much no one hitting on me. Not that I mind, see previous statement about happy monogamy.

On the rare occasions when a stranger does hit on me, I usually take it as a compliment. It puts a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I respond the same way as the stereotypical men who are quoted in these stories expect a woman to. I respond as they claim that they would themselves. In short, I respond as someone who has the privilege of being hit on only rarely.

My first thought on the source of this privilege was that it was a function of not being 'conventionally attractive'. But after seeing this series of gifs of the gorgeous Emma Watson, I realised that that is probably not the entirety of it. 

Looking back, I can't think of a single Irish stranger that has hit on me other than in nightclubs. And, while it is rare for me to get hit on, it is a large enough sample size to see a pattern. I think the main source of this privilege is living in a country where people rarely hit on strangers.