Why am I participating in the Women’s March on Washington today?

I am marching because when I was 12 and complained that boys were putting mirrors on their shoes to look up girls’ skirts, the teacher smiled and told me to make sure I was wearing clean underwear, because “boys will be boys.” That same year, our Girl Scout troop took us to a local university and gave us a self-defense class: “Make sure you aim for their eyes and throat — men are very protective of their genitals … ”

When I was 13 and starting to develop curves, boys would brush up against me in the halls and then smirk about how much more space I now took up. A teacher told me I was going to have a great body, and he said my Dad would have to lock me up to keep the boys away.

When I was 15 and a 30-year-old man pulled me into his lap, pulled my shirt neckline out and said “I just wanted to make sure they were real,” I was chastised by the males standing around because I was being too uptight and hard to get along with when I refused to go near him again.

I am marching because when I was 17, a 22-year-old that I had a crush on told me that I was a tease and owed him sex even though I didn’t want to sleep with him. He was willing to force the issue, but I was lucky enough to have friends nearby and he wasn’t willing to face them too.

When I was 19 and in college, a male friend-of-a-friend offered to “take care of my virginity” for me, so I would be easier to date. He was genuinely shocked when I turned him down.

I am marching because as a 24-year-old college graduate, I started at a salary lower than my male coworkers. As I gained promotions and more responsibilities, I was told both to “dress in pants —  they’ll never take you seriously otherwise” and to “dress in skirts — men will notice you then.”

As a 30-year-old professional with a master’s degree, I was given a fancy CFO title, but then called “honey” and “sweetie” in meetings when the boss was trying to impress. In the meetings that came along with this position, it was assumed that I would take the notes “because women are better at stuff like that.”

As a 40-year-old business owner, I had to ask a 60-year-old customer not to come back unless he would stop pestering my 17-year-old barista to go out with him. I had to learn to stiff-arm a handshake with a repeat customer after he embraced me and slid his hands up under my bra strap. I had to train employees not to save concerns for my father or husband. I had to ask male customers to stop using my Wi-Fi to stream pornography.

I am marching because I am a privileged white woman. I have been blessed beyond measure to be raised by, surrounded by and loved by men who have never made me question my abilities based on my gender. But while my experiences are typical of all women, I am not typical. I have privilege, I have financial security, I am an American, and I have white skin. All these things make it horrifying to me that other women who do not have these privileges have to face these challenges and worse without the advantages that I possess.

This is why I march.

Rachel Midgette is a resident of Beaufort County.