We — women — are very clear about our own boundaries. If a man were to grab us, touch us without permission, make unwanted physical advances, we'd call it exactly what it is: harassment. We'd be outraged, and rightfully so. There are laws, HR departments, hotlines, entire cultural movements built around protecting women from this kind of behavior.

And all of that is necessary and important.

But somehow, when the roles are reversed, we treat it like it's cute. Or flattering. Or just "women being women." As if men should be grateful for the attention.

They're not always grateful. Sometimes they're deeply uncomfortable. And they have every right to be.

Research consistently shows that men who experience unwanted sexual contact from women often struggle to name it, report it, or even admit it to themselves — largely because society tells them they shouldn't mind (Struckman-Johnson & Struckman-Johnson, 1994). The cultural narrative that men always want sexual attention is not just wrong; it's damaging.

Flirting vs. Crossing the Line

Let me be clear — there's nothing wrong with flirting. Flirting is one of the most natural human interactions there is. When two people are mutually interested, when there's a spark, when both parties are leaning in — that's beautiful. Go for it. Put your hand on his arm. Smile. Be bold.

But here's the key word: mutual.

Just because a man smiles at you doesn't mean he wants you to touch him. Just because he's polite doesn't mean he's interested. Just because he's attractive and friendly doesn't mean his body is available for your hands, your comments, or your fantasies expressed out loud.

There is a world of difference between a connection and a violation. And it starts with paying attention to whether the other person is actually inviting your attention — or just being professional.

"We're Men. We're Not Supposed to Complain."

That's what the young hairstylist said to me before I left. And honestly, that one sentence has stayed with me more than anything else.

"We're men. We're not supposed to complain."

He's right that this is the expectation. But the expectation is wrong.

A man is never going to walk into a police station and file a report because a client got too handsy at the salon. He's not going to call a hotline because women at the gym made him uncomfortable. The social cost of admitting vulnerability as a man in America is still enormous. Studies have found that men are significantly less likely than women to report sexual victimization, in large part because of shame and the fear of not being believed (Weiss, 2010).

And so it just… continues. It gets normalized. It becomes invisible.

What I'm Really Asking

I'm not writing this to demonize women or minimize the very real harassment that women experience every single day. That's not the point.

The point is simpler than that. Respect is not gendered.

It's not acceptable to touch someone without their permission — regardless of who's doing the touching. It's not acceptable to make someone's workspace a site of your unwanted desire. It's not acceptable to project your attraction onto another person's body without caring whether they welcome it.

We want men to respect us — for our minds, our work, our humanity. And they should.

But "they should" has to go both directions.

If we believe in boundaries — and I think most of us genuinely do — then we have to believe in them universally. For women, for men, for everyone.

Let's start paying attention. Let's start asking ourselves whether the person in front of us actually wants what we're offering. And if the answer isn't clearly yes, let's have the grace to step back.

Because respect, at its core, is just that: seeing another person as a full human being whose comfort matters as much as your own.