Every time I remember the first time I felt scared and inferior because of harassment, I’m filled with a sense of helplessness and, at the same time, so much empathy for that 16-year-old girl who just wanted to get off the bus so she could go to school and have a normal day; but instead, I froze when I felt that hand under my uniform skirt. I remember running into the classroom, in tears, wanting someone to comfort me. Instead, I was told, “It’s normal—that kind of thing happens.”

Under no circumstances should harassment be normalized or justified. Unfortunately, we have grown up in a society where many of these behaviors have become something we learn to tolerate, downplay, and even ignore. Phrases like “that’s just how men are,” “don’t pay any attention to them,” and “he was probably just joking” end up turning an experience of violence into something we’re expected to simply accept.

And that’s where the problem lies: when something happens constantly, we can come to believe it’s normal. But just because something is common doesn’t mean it’s right. No one should feel unsafe because of the way someone else chooses to behave. No one should learn from a young age that they have to put up with comments, stares, innuendos, touching, or any other behavior that violates their boundaries just to avoid “making a fuss.”

Breaking those patterns also means learning to respect ourselves as individuals and recognizing that our boundaries matter. It means understanding that “no” is enough, that our bodies belong to us, and that we have the right to feel safe. It also means questioning what we’ve learned to normalize over the years. Not only when we are the ones experiencing harassment, but also when we are witnesses. Because often, breaking the pattern starts with something as simple as not staying silent and not justifying the behavior.

The teenager I once was didn’t need to be told that this was normal. She needed someone to tell her that what had happened wasn’t her fault, that her boundaries had been violated, and that she had the right to feel safe. Today, many years later, I believe we also have a responsibility to tell this to people who are still learning to recognize violence: that you don’t have to get used to what makes you feel unsafe, that you don’t have to accept what crosses your boundaries, and that we must stop calling “normal” what should never have been normal.

Today, through my work as a community educator, I have the opportunity to talk about these issues and raise awareness about conversations we often didn’t have when we were young. That’s why I believe education and open conversations are so important. Challenging the normalization of harassment doesn’t just mean teaching people to identify abusive behavior; it also means questioning the ideas and phrases that, for generations, we’ve been taught to tolerate. We may not be able to change what I experienced as a young person, but we can help ensure that future generations have the tools to recognize their own boundaries, respect those of others, and, above all, understand that respect isn’t conditional—it’s something we all deserve.

Leyda Marcial is the Community Educator at Violence Intervention Program, where she facilitates workshops and provides education on domestic violence and gender-based violence. Prior to joiningVIP, she worked at the Consulate General of Mexico, supporting programs and services for the Mexican and immigrant community. Her work is rooted in a commitment to supporting immigrant communities and making information, resources, and services more accessible to individuals experiencing vulnerable situations.

Image Credit: Encuentro, 1959. Remedios Varo (España, 1908-1963)