I wrote this shortly after an eye opening experience during my first solo overseas trip. Now going on three years of solo travel, a lot of this still rings true and are still things I would advise to women going it alone.

Most of the time I felt safe travelling alone. Of course, I had taken some extra precautions (to be listed in my Tips for Travelling Alone listicle) and I explored Paris and Brussels as I would my own city. I had expected street harassment because I exist while female in our still very misogynistic world, but a word of caution from my recent experience: ignore them. No matter how lonely you feel, or how homesick, do not engage with men on the street unless you are specifically looking for a sexual encounter. If you are, more power to you, European men are way more straight forward than American men, so you’ll have no trouble finding what you’re looking for.

The other night, I was walking back to my hostel from dinner. It was around midnight, so not terribly late (it doesn’t get dark in Brussels until about 10 in the summer), but also beyond the point that I was really capable of functioning as a normal human being (I like to get up early to tourist). I’m almost back to my place when this guy “ca-va”s me from across the street. I had had a long day and was craving conversation, so I decided to engage him. At first it was the usual pleasantries: What’s your name? Where are you from? How long are you in Brussels? etc. But quickly the conversation moved away from getting to know each other to more sexually charged language. It started innocently enough, “Oh, you’re so beautiful. It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He kept complimenting me, calling me things like “Cherie” and “Jolie Savannah” and then he was having trouble communicating with me on a level we could both understand. So he moved to English. “I like the way you look tonight. I really like you. Let’s go to the hotel. Something to remember your travels by.”

This quick escalation took me totally off guard, as I hadn’t really responded to his flirting and kept insisting I just wanted to talk, He then put his hand in the crook of my shoulder. He told me he really liked the way my lips looked and tried to kiss me right there in the middle of the street. This complete stranger. I ducked away and told him I had to go. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me back to him, first playfully, but more forcibly the harder I tried to get away. He kept pleading with me to stay, to give him a chance. To not be ashamed, that I was so beautiful. At this point I had decided that I really had to get away. If this guy wasn’t listening to me say no in a less sexual content, how was he going to act in the middle of a hormone-fueled moment?

He was still trying to drag me with him and finally I started to really resist, pulling him instead into a crosswalk where there was oncoming traffic. He let me go and all of a sudden, I wasn’t “Jolie Savannah” anymore. I was a bitch for only wanting to talk; a pig for not wanting to sleep with him. He continued to yell insults at me as I walked away and I had to report him to my hostel in case he decided to follow me or come back later. Until that moment, I hadn’t been afraid travelling alone (I’ve done it a lot!).

So as much as it pains me to say this, I hope it serves as a warning to you, my readers. Don’t respond to street harassment, especially when you’re travelling alone. Cultural norms vary around the world, and your decision to speak to someone on the street may imply something you don’t mean or want. Make sure you assert yourself and are plain about your intentions. And if the person you’ve engaged with doesn’t respect your wishes, get out of there ASAP. Trust your instincts on these things, they’re usually right.