So, last night I had a nightmare. 

It was about a man. 

The day before that, I had a different, completely non-fictional man stop his car in the middle of the street—holding up three other cars behind him—just to roll down his window and catcall me. That’s what being fully covered mid-summer and minding my own business gets me, I guess. 

Anyway, this wombo-combo of unpleasant incidents had me waking up this morning like every other morning, opening TikTok, and watching all twelve and a half minutes of the Idaho Murders 3D timeline with a little more anxiety than usual. This wasn’t my first time watching anything true crime related because, not to brag, but go ahead and name a documentary on Netflix and I can guarantee I’ve seen it. 

In American Nightmare, Denise Huskins is the victim and a woman, and in The Disappearance of Madeleine McCann—shocker—Madeleine McCann is the victim and a girl. Three out of four of the victims in the Idaho four murders were girls. All of these girls were targets, then victims, then dead bodies, and it’s that precise process that can be narrowed down into three different tiny little sections that makes a girl go, “What the actual fuck?” 

How are you supposed to sit down with your lunch, watch half an hour of true crime, and then think, “Wow, good one Netflix” if you match the demographic of the girl on TV who just got slaughtered? Well, for one, don’t praise Netflix. Instead, praise Amazon with a review after buying a second lock for your bedroom door. 

Okay, so now you’re probably thinking of a variety of different descriptors for what I’ve written to you so far: dramatic, paranoid, or maybe even delusional. I’m sorry guys, I can’t back down on this subject; I have a very opinionated mother with a black belt who teaches women’s self-defence workshops on her vacation. I’m bound to be her yapping apprentice, which is why I have to address that, yes, the Idaho four murders took place in America, just like how the victim of American Nightmare is also, you guessed it, American! 

Oh yeah, and Madeleine McCann was British but disappeared in Portugal. Just because those victims seem a world away doesn’t mean that all of us hockey players and maple syrup chuggers are safe though, eh? In fact, have you heard about the Hockey Canada sexual assault trial that recently ended, where all five charged NHL stars were found not guilty and their charges were dropped?

Key word: Canada. I don’t know how many of you readers are Durham residents, but thankfully I’m not because did you read about the man that followed a woman to her car and stabbed her after getting off the Pickering GO station? As of right now, he’s still wanted, by the way. 

So before you think not walking with your keys between your knuckles tonight is okay, just remember to look out for that weirdo. Anyway, so we’ve got some mixed emotions here, don’t we? On the one hand, true crime is an easy thriller for when you’re on your lunch break or trying to pull an all-nighter for no reason other than to say you’re a part of the club. Don’t feel targeted, I’ve done it four times. 

But on our other hand, true crime is a little bit terrifying when you remember it happens across the world and gets covered by international media, but also a couple hours away and gets covered by local news that you don’t read because jeez, local newspapers, please upgrade your target audience to a generation younger than the Baby Boomers. 

So here we go gay, immigrant, Indigenous, and racialized minority women, what can we do to stay safe? I target this particular group of people because these are just a few of the demographics that the Government of Canada says need to watch out most because we’re prone to gender-based violence. Oh, you gotta love patriarchy. Well, tip number one from audience-member/potential-victim to audience-member/potential-victim is to practice situational awareness. This means to heighten your senses and absolutely do not limit them. 

Example time: you love a good hot girl walk with some Taylor blasting at 8 AM, right? Mhm, yeah, me too, but unfortunately we can’t have that kind of peace without putting ourselves at risk. Why? Because 8 AM is not only a very isolated, quiet time of day, but limiting our hearing by having both AirPods in at a high volume screams vulnerable, which also screams easy target. It’s not as fun, but only having one AirPod in instead of two, going out closer to a busier time of day, or the best option: hot girl walking with a hot girl friend increases safety points by like ten thousand. 

Now, here’s where we get somewhat controversial, because now I’m going to give you my Life Saving Tip Number Two, and it’s going to be called Where to Strike a Man So Hard it Guarantees He’ll Cry. Don’t worry, we’re not ending lives here, just buying you enough time to get away from a possible life-threatening situation. Ready, set, go. The nine vital areas to strike really any human being are: the 

eyes, ears, nose, throat, solar plexus, groin, knees, feet, and shins. Yeah, you could twist a wrist or jab a rib or bash in a temple, but imagine how much more instantly effective gauging an eye, puncturing an ear, or kneeing a groin might be. It’s intimidating, but imagine how much more intimidating being dragged into a vehicle involuntarily in 5-10 seconds might be if you don’t fight back. 

Now, the descriptors that you’re probably giving my writing might still be dramatic, paranoid, and delusional, but maybe I’ve gotten a little side of “What the fuck” out of you too. I’m hoping for this last reaction and I say this not because I’m 100% mentally ill—only like 85%—I say this because that shock, confusion, or disbelief needs to become a teaspoon of fear mixed thoroughly with a tablespoon of reality.

Being scared sucks, but it’s normal, and actually, it’s okay, because if you take your life and your family/friends’ lives seriously enough, that fear will eventually become the drive that better prepares you for the worst. I know I sound like living, breathing anxiety right now, but sorry guys, when it comes to raising awareness in terms of sexual assault, kidnappings, and homocide prevention, I can’t really dance around the truth. 

P.S.: I’m allowed to preach to you about all of this stuff because I had to listen to my mom drill it into my head for nineteen years. I warned you that I’m her yapping apprentice. Doesn’t mean I have an angelic shield hovering an inch over my skin and protecting me from everything though. I warned you that I got followed and catcalled the other day too, didn’t I? Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you’ve woken up, and just because you’re prepared doesn’t mean you’re safe. Sure, it helps, but sorry guys (x3) there’s no big, relieving conclusion to my little personal essay/cultural piece/mini take-home self-defense instruction manual? All that’s here is some facts, some suggestions, some sarcasm, some good luck, and a whole lot of please be safe out there.

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