The Walk That Changed How I Think About Safety

Maya (London)

I have always considered myself pretty street smart. I grew up in London, used public transport from a young age, and I have lived alone since university. I have had the usual moments such as someone walking too close or making an unwanted comment but nothing that ever truly unsettled me. At least not until this past March. It was a Wednesday and I stayed late at work to finish a deadline. By the time I left the office it was almost 9pm. I was not worried because it was a route I had walked many times, a straight path from the station to my flat. The streetlights were bright, the roads still had people passing through, and I had my headphones ready as usual.

As I walked out of the station that night, I noticed a man standing by the ticket machines. He was not doing anything obviously strange, but he was very still. Most people were coming and going quickly, tapping in or out. He stood there with his hood up, occasionally looking around. I tried not to overthink it but something felt off. I crossed the road, and about twenty seconds later I heard footsteps behind me. That part alone was not unusual. What made me uneasy was that when I slowed down, the footsteps slowed too. When I crossed to the other side of the pavement, the person behind me crossed as well. I turned slightly and recognised him immediately. It was the same man from the station.

What helped me in that moment were all the tiny pieces of advice I had heard over the years. Remove distractions. Stay aware. Walk with confidence. I took my headphones out. I unlocked my phone. I walked with purpose without appearing rushed. When I turned onto the next road, a quieter residential street, the footsteps behind me became quicker. That was when I knew it was not just coincidence.

I crossed the street again. He followed. That was when I made a deliberate choice. Instead of heading towards my flat as usual, I walked towards the small corner shop that stays open late. I stepped inside and pretended I was looking for something specific. The man paused outside, hovered for a moment, and then slowly walked past the shop as if checking to see if I would come back out. The shopkeeper, who has known me for years, noticed my expression almost immediately. He quietly asked if I was alright. I explained what had happened in a few sentences. He nodded, walked out to the doorway, and looked up and down the street as though checking the weather. The man was still there at the end of the road. After a moment, he saw the shopkeeper watching him and eventually walked away. I waited a few more minutes before leaving, and the shopkeeper offered to walk me halfway home. At first I felt a bit silly accepting the help but the relief I felt walking beside someone familiar made me realise just how tense I had been. Nothing officially happened that night. I was not attacked. No confrontation took place. But the feeling was real, the threat felt real, and the lesson stayed with me. I kept replaying the situation over the next few days. What if I had ignored my instincts. What if I had walked straight home. What if he had followed me inside my building. It made me rethink what safety actually means. It is not only about reacting to danger but also about making small choices that prevent danger. That night changed me in ways I did not expect. I now share my route with someone when I walk home late. I keep my keys and phone where I can reach them quickly. I stay aware of who is behind me instead of zoning out with music. And I talk to my friends openly about trusting their instincts without apologising for being cautious.

I decided to share this story because so many women have experiences like this. Sometimes we brush them off, sometimes we convince ourselves we are overreacting. But intuition exists for a reason. Feeling unsafe, even when nothing technically happens, is valid. And talking about these experiences helps others recognise the signs earlier and make choices that keep them safe.