Day: I am walking on a level and smooth concrete sidewalk, absent of any potential obstacles, yet my head subconsciously drops as He passes. The sun is playing hide and seek with the clouds, yet my eyes precipitously shift as though a beam of light was piercing them. The weather is warm, yet my fingers clench my jacket’s zipper, yanking it up to parallel my collarbones.

Night: Outside, it is silent, yet the darkness is loud. My headphones nuzzle my inner-ears, yet no music plays. I must be attentive. No one is within visible sight, yet the grip on my pepper spray remains forceful. My feet competitively race one another, fleetingly speeding up as they approach the finish line: the sheltered double-door entrance to my apartment.

Tiptoe, tiptoe, tiptoe.

All hours of the day and into the night, we, as women, must tiptoe.

We double as tightrope walkers. One singular move, we fall. We are at risk, always. We prepare ourselves for this risk. We are taught how to accept this risk when it confronts us. We are taught how to cope with this risk. How to move on from it. How to learn from it.

What risk am I speaking of? What is the risk of falling off the tightrope? What is the risk of neglecting to tiptoe?

The risk is assault. The risk is sexual violence. The risk is rape.

We, as women, are conditioned to acknowledge that one in five of us will be sexually assaulted at least one time in our lifetime.

We must learn the proper precautions, the proper way to protect ourselves, the proper way to avoid this from happening. We must learn the proper way to tiptoe.

We, as women, are habituated to sexual assault. We are habituated to expect it, to wait our turn, as though we realize it will happen one day. We, as women, are habituated to fall off the tightrope.

This is so twisted.

When I was eleven years old, a newly transitioning middle schooler, my public-school policy mandated that I wear knee-length spandex underneath my “short” shorts. We, as girls, were taught that this would inhibit impending distractions for the young men. Us girls were taught that our legs were merely sexualized objects to divert the boys from their educational experience. Us girls had hardly even hit puberty.

We simply listened as the educational institution brainwashed our naïve minds to appropriate to the culture of male dominance and rape. Come high school, despite whether or not I felt comfortable or confident in my outfit, the administration forced me to change my shorts, frightful that the objects dangling from my hips, or should I say, my legs, would steal the boys’ focus.

This message has been transferred institutionally as us girls have grown older. My friends and I have been gifted with pepper spray from relatives, told to carry it with us everywhere we go for “it will eventually come in handy.” Facebook sponsors a “runners ring,” a heavy-duty plastic serrated-edge weapon made for women to fight off any attackers when attempting to exercise. Merely every elder advises “never put your drink down,” and to “always be on guard!” Our mental states have been conditioned to become exceedingly anxious in situations with males, whether it be with an Uber driver, a teacher assistant, a stranger in passing, and so on.

At a required congregation on campus, the administrative team asked a population of 700 college-aged women what they fear most. The options were abundant, from failing classes to hazing. Yet, nearly 80 percent of women responded to the poll, “sexual assault.” The deans then enlightened us with what preventative measures we, as women, can take, after we are sexually assaulted or raped… as if we weren’t already aware.

We, as women, are taught to tiptoe, tiptoe, tiptoe.

Again. This is so twisted.

Why is it that women are educated about how to conceal their identity, manipulate their appearance, expressions, actions, and behaviors in order to circumvent a criminal act that will forever negatively alter someone’s orientation towards the world? Why is it that women are conditioned to carry out their lives on the basis of fear?

This is not females’ responsibility. Our callings are neither tip-toeing nor tightrope walking. It is our time to walk with our heads up and our feet grounded, free of anxiety and harbored from potent danger.

It is the men who need enlightenment. Men need to deeply and morally understand how erroneous this culture of fear is, and need to learn to respect the meaning of equality. These understandings will create empathy and prevent sexual assault from transpiring.

After all, women do not get raped because they were not tip-toeing. They get raped because someone raped them.