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I spent this past weekend at a concert series a few hours north of where I live. The folks I attended with are part of a sizeable group of friends. We would get together in the mornings and have coffee and mimosas.

The morning after the first night, we were all standing around and talking, and a guy in his 50s starts a conversation with a group of us women regarding how crowded the standing room section in front of the stage was.

He wasn’t joking. Fun was had, and much of the fun around the stage area was had by couples swaying cutely together or by women out there dancing and having a good time.

Before I go any further, I want to be very clear that this guy is a sweetheart of a man. Just a good dude that is exactly the person you want to stand in a parking lot having mimosas with. The kind of guy who rocked a pedi with painted toes and is married to a great woman. I am not here to drag this man. Period.

But, there is something weird happening with me right now, and I’m having a hard time turning it off, regardless of the situation I’m in. I have become hyper-aware of the messaging sent toward women that is designed to keep us in our lane.

What this looks like is that I will hear something, and it registers differently. It could be totally innocuous, but it makes me realize how ingrained certain constructs and behaviors are in our psyches and that everyone generally accepts them. Both men and women. I’m paying attention in a way I never have before.

So, back to the parking lot mimosa conversation. This acquaintance expressed his discontent with not being able to really get onto the dance floor as he noted that women do this thing where they kind of stretch their arms out on the dance floor and take up a bunch of space.

I couldn’t tell if he was mentioning it to us as a way to understand why this happens or as a plea to kindly work with our sisters to take up less space on the dance floor.

I must have processed this in about 30 seconds, but it seems like it was a good solid ten minutes. I was faced with a choice. Do I say something, or do I just smile and nod?

The problem is that I feel I am hyperaware of these statements because I have spent my whole damn life smiling and nodding. Fuck that. This was a teachable moment, and I was going to educate.

Making this decision in and of itself was hard. I feel like I have spent a significant amount of time not rocking the boat. Not speaking up. Letting things go. Women are afraid of how we will be received and if our voice will have negative consequences.

I made my decision based on the fact that either I a) knew this man well enough for him to know my intention was as pure as his or b) did not know him well enough to be really concerned with his reaction. Either way, I chalked it up as a no lose situation.

I simply smiled at him and said, “On behalf of every single woman who has ever had to sit in between two men on a plane, at a bar, or on mass transit, we absolutely understand your frustration with someone taking up more space than you think they should.”

There was silence. His response was based in humor. He told me to try sitting in a dainty manner with testicles. Okay. He had me dead to rights there. I have no idea what it’s like to have testicles.

However, I feel like the amount of space a man needs to take up on behalf of his testicles is much less than the actual amount of space he takes up. It’s like grabbing the big plate at the buffet even though you really only need the small one.

No, for real. One does not have to outstretch their arms on a train or a couch to accommodate their testicles better. The arms are just like bonus space that you get by virtue of having said testicles.

What happened next in the conversation was what really fascinated me. Suddenly, everyone in our circle became aware of the reality of the statements he and I made. There were a few “oh shit” looks and nods.

Every single one of the women in the circle lived through the 90s concert era, and each of us has a story of being trampled at a standing-room-only show because some dudes randomly decided to start a mosh pit. Dance floor aggression: totally acceptable behavior for men but not for women.

There was a slight bit of defensiveness in his tone. I honestly don’t think it was because he was offended. I think there was a moment of embarrassment that he had absolutely told women to be smaller and to take up less space.

It was not his intention to suggest that. But, for a minute, I think he understood exactly why I reacted the way that I did. It’s because, regardless of conscious intention, that is exactly what he did. He told us to be smaller.

I let him know I meant no offense but that women are really tired of being told to take up less space. It’s completely exhausting.

The other women in the circle added their comments. One woman noted that women often do this in crowded spaces to keep men from coming in too close. Dance floors are a hotbed of unwanted physical attention, and creating space with our arms decreases the likelihood of someone “accidentally” touching us.

It had not occurred to him that these actions might be taken by women for a reason. While men, as noted by him, take up space for physical comfort, women often take up space for physical safety.

What struck me most about this conversation was the realization that men have absolutely bought into and sell back the messaging that frustrates the hell out of women. And they have no idea they do it. None. It simply does not occur to them.

There’s an opportunity here. Women do have the ability to gently help men understand that some things they say or do are deeply problematic for us.

I say “gently” not intending to tell women they have to curb their frustrations for the comfort of men. I say it because kindness is the bridge between frustration and understanding.

What does not matter to me is whether these men are seeking this education. It’s our obligation as women to speak on our own behalf because there certainly isn’t anyone else that is going to do that.

Whenever we have an opportunity to casually and kindly point out a double standard and don’t do it, we just allow it to be reinforced as a truth. I’m not concerned with being seen as an uppity woman because I am, indeed, an uppity woman. I’m cool with it.

I’m big on the idea that women shouldn’t keep our physical selves small, but we shouldn’t be made to feel we need to keep our verbal selves small, either.

Vanessa Torre is a writer, editor, plant junkie, music fan, and host of 🎙 I Hadn’t Considered That, a podcast about perspectives. For contact info or to find out more about her, visit www.vanessatorre.com, follow her on Instagram, or sign up for her newsletter.