Well done and thank you for sharing what is far too common. I've had similar experiences and it's terrifying. I felt all those familiar feelings reading this... sitting in my apt, phone in hand, ready to call 911 so sure he was about to bust in my window, unlisted phone numbers back when it was landlines. Ugh. Thanks for sharing and love the weaving of Great Gatsby. As a GenXer, I often blame "Say Anything" and it's dreamy boombox blaring In Your Eyes.... which is of course creepy but .... semi-swoony!!!! But yeah, the "persistent" boy has long been romanticized... bad message, but still the stalkers own fault for internalizing friggin fiction.
I remember the My Sister Sam law finally going into effect. It helped I think, though of course, not enough.
I love your writing and how you draw parallels between your experience and a novel that has probably been taught in nearly every high school English class in America. Well done.
I was on the edge of my seat the whole time! I've had a few "stalker" types, but nothing as bad as yours. I felt relief when I read the part about you finding out he died. It's been so long since I read Gatsby (High School), so now I'm going to have to re-read it with a feminist lens.
The only error is that Daisy Buchanan never resided in Manhattan; she lived on the North Shore of eastern Nassau County. (She was raised in Louisville, Kentucky.)
I had a "stalker" at college -- nowhere near as serious as your situation, thank goodness. I met a guy at a party, who lived in a neighboring dorm. Danced with him, chatted a bit but I really wasn't interested. He started sitting down at my table in the cafeteria, uninvited, leaching onto me at parties. Sat down beside me when a large group of us went to see "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and was all hands as soon as the lights went down. I finally gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs and he got the message -- or so I thought.
One night soon after that, I was lying in bed in my room -- & I could hear someone at my door. I sat up and yelled "Who's there? WHO'S THERE??" as loud as I could (the walls weren't very thick so I thought/hoped my neighbours might hear). The noise stopped. I carefully opened my door a while later and saw a pile of pennies on the floor. He'd told me about a prank where he & some other guys had "pennied" another guy into their room, so I knew it was him. (They jammed pennies underneath the door so that it wouldn't open. They wound up having to take the door off its hinges.) I probably should have reported him to the residence administration, but I didn't.
He showed up at the next party with another girl (who seemed much more interested than I was...!) and completely ignored me. To say I was relieved was an understatement...!
What a scary experience! I was harassed by men in college in a time when nobody locked their doors. Some creepy guys decided to make a suicide pact and chose three young women who'd been sexually assaulted with the idea they could "make" us commit suicide. They'd stand in the halls and shout "this is no way to run a whorehouse" and similar sentiments. I was 19, but the sort of shrugging it off that you convey so beautifully in this essay rang true for me then. When one of them called later to apologize, I said "You picked the three strongest women in the school."
And now I’m 67 and have seen the thing that I survived draw in other women. Some even flattered by having a “ stalker “ . And I cannot think of them without feeling such pity.
There are fine lines between those semantics. And I have “ seen “ over time, women who know that this person is, using their own words, “ not well, and dangerous “, but then they court the stalker…and in one case the man broke into her car and she only had met him at the dog park. But she kept going to the dog park with her friends looking for him…staring at him when he appeared. That’s crazy meeting crazy to me.
I've had two stalkers, both ex boyfriends, and have been talking to women about this for years (I'm 64). I'm beginning to think the question is, which of us has NOT? Especially if we go back to the creepy boys in school who followed us around the halls and demanded we like them.
This was fabulous! Loved this line, so much truth:
“Death is consistently surprising, even though it’s the least surprising thing a person can do.”
Thank you, Jenn. ❤️
Well done and thank you for sharing what is far too common. I've had similar experiences and it's terrifying. I felt all those familiar feelings reading this... sitting in my apt, phone in hand, ready to call 911 so sure he was about to bust in my window, unlisted phone numbers back when it was landlines. Ugh. Thanks for sharing and love the weaving of Great Gatsby. As a GenXer, I often blame "Say Anything" and it's dreamy boombox blaring In Your Eyes.... which is of course creepy but .... semi-swoony!!!! But yeah, the "persistent" boy has long been romanticized... bad message, but still the stalkers own fault for internalizing friggin fiction.
I remember the My Sister Sam law finally going into effect. It helped I think, though of course, not enough.
Love your writing and off to read more!
That damn boom box!
I love your writing and how you draw parallels between your experience and a novel that has probably been taught in nearly every high school English class in America. Well done.
Oh, thank you for reading!
Thank you for this writing, Diana, and thank you for publishing it Sari!!
Thank you, Amy!
Bravo! LOVED this.
Thank you so much, Marnie.
I was on the edge of my seat the whole time! I've had a few "stalker" types, but nothing as bad as yours. I felt relief when I read the part about you finding out he died. It's been so long since I read Gatsby (High School), so now I'm going to have to re-read it with a feminist lens.
Hi Doreen. Thank you! Let me know how your Gatsby re-read goes. If you haven’t read it since high school, I think you’ll be amazed.
An excellent essay, Diana.
The only error is that Daisy Buchanan never resided in Manhattan; she lived on the North Shore of eastern Nassau County. (She was raised in Louisville, Kentucky.)
Thank you, Maura! And yes, that’s why I wrote New York, not Manhattan. I see how that feels a bit blurry, though. :)
And here is a stalking in 100 words... https://rebeccakalin.substack.com/p/david-from-cuzco
Beautiful and haunting.
And creepy. I got into his car! I could ended up raped and dead in the Meadowlands swamp alongside JImmy Hoffa. (minus his being rape)
Wow. Glad you got out of there and away from him.
I had a "stalker" at college -- nowhere near as serious as your situation, thank goodness. I met a guy at a party, who lived in a neighboring dorm. Danced with him, chatted a bit but I really wasn't interested. He started sitting down at my table in the cafeteria, uninvited, leaching onto me at parties. Sat down beside me when a large group of us went to see "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and was all hands as soon as the lights went down. I finally gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs and he got the message -- or so I thought.
One night soon after that, I was lying in bed in my room -- & I could hear someone at my door. I sat up and yelled "Who's there? WHO'S THERE??" as loud as I could (the walls weren't very thick so I thought/hoped my neighbours might hear). The noise stopped. I carefully opened my door a while later and saw a pile of pennies on the floor. He'd told me about a prank where he & some other guys had "pennied" another guy into their room, so I knew it was him. (They jammed pennies underneath the door so that it wouldn't open. They wound up having to take the door off its hinges.) I probably should have reported him to the residence administration, but I didn't.
He showed up at the next party with another girl (who seemed much more interested than I was...!) and completely ignored me. To say I was relieved was an understatement...!
What a scary experience! I was harassed by men in college in a time when nobody locked their doors. Some creepy guys decided to make a suicide pact and chose three young women who'd been sexually assaulted with the idea they could "make" us commit suicide. They'd stand in the halls and shout "this is no way to run a whorehouse" and similar sentiments. I was 19, but the sort of shrugging it off that you convey so beautifully in this essay rang true for me then. When one of them called later to apologize, I said "You picked the three strongest women in the school."
And now I’m 67 and have seen the thing that I survived draw in other women. Some even flattered by having a “ stalker “ . And I cannot think of them without feeling such pity.
I think to be flattering, it has to be persistence, not stalking. People waaaay over-use the word “stalker.”
There are fine lines between those semantics. And I have “ seen “ over time, women who know that this person is, using their own words, “ not well, and dangerous “, but then they court the stalker…and in one case the man broke into her car and she only had met him at the dog park. But she kept going to the dog park with her friends looking for him…staring at him when he appeared. That’s crazy meeting crazy to me.
Loved this. Having a stalker feels like a rite of passage that shouldn’t be—far too common.
It definitely taught me how to live in New York. I never so much as looked at a neighbor again. :)
Wow. So many similarities to my pwn experiences. So many feels. What a great essay!
Thank you, Jennifer. It's pretty incredible how many women I know, and am now meeting, who have a stalker story.
I've had two stalkers, both ex boyfriends, and have been talking to women about this for years (I'm 64). I'm beginning to think the question is, which of us has NOT? Especially if we go back to the creepy boys in school who followed us around the halls and demanded we like them.
Oh, yes, they start early!
Nicely done!
Thank you, Mike!
Loved reading this!
Oh, thank you, Phyllis!
Wow. It's amazing how reading about something that I have no personal connection to or experience with can bring me chills anyway. Brava!
Thank you, Cindy!