Views expressed in opinion columns are the author’s own.

Last Sunday, I desperately needed cereal and energy drinks from Target, so I sauntered down to Route 1. I attempted to open the door, and a voice behind me said, “they’re closed.” Duh, it was Easter. Silly me.

“Oh, crap. Thanks,” I replied. Then this man started asking me questions. Where was I from? He told me where he went to school. It was 30 seconds of boring, polite conversation.

If this story does not sound particularly noteworthy yet, that’s because it shouldn’t have been. That is, until he asked for my number, so that we could “hang out.”

I told him “Nah, I don’t think I know you well enough.” He challenged this and I politely refused him again. Then I got hit with the “Why are you being such a douchebag?” I stammered, unable to answer. He turned away, but not before shouting “Fuck off!” over his shoulder.

This isn’t unusual. It happens every day, all the time, everywhere. There were no consequences to this interaction. I left perturbed, sure; upset, yes. But other stories have far worse consequences. Aggression toward women who reject men is the root of many assaults, and sometimes, homicides. My interaction was mild. It was nothing. But what about Mary Spears?

Spears was at the American Legion Joe Louis Post No. 375 in Detroit, when she was approached by a man asking for her number. She explained she had a fiancé, but that wasn’t enough. Security attempted to remove him, but not before he shot and killed Spears with a handgun.

Or what about Raelynn Vincent? Vincent was catcalled from a car late at night in Chico, California. When she did not respond, the driver stepped out and brutally attacked her, breaking her jaw.

And let’s not forget Janese Talton-Jackson of Pittsburgh, who rejected a stranger’s advances at a bar, only for him to follow her home and shoot her in the chest.

These are not isolated occurrences. There are too many documented cases of aggression and violence toward women who reject men. This does not include the countless cases that go unreported. The root of the issue? Toxic masculinity. I know that phrase has been tossed around a lot lately, so let’s figure out what it means. The Good Men Project aptly defines it as “a narrow and repressive description of manhood, designating manhood as defined by violence, sex, status and aggression.” It can be ingrained in us from an early age.

If a boy plays antagonistically with a girl, we cannot chalk it up to him “just liking her.” Disrespect toward women, even at a young age, cannot be permitted. If boys are allowed to defend or express themselves physically to a preemptive fault, then what’s to stop young men from associating aggression with dignity?

So, yes, I am afraid to give my number out, no matter how decent the man who asks may seem. Yes, my friends and I have given out fake numbers in place of real ones. It’s not ideal, but why do we do this? Because we are aware of the potential — no matter how rare — for aggression or violence. In my case, I was told to “fuck off.” In the cases of Spears, Vincent and Talton-Jackson, things ended very differently.

Men, if a woman gives you a fake number, understand she is dishonest because she is afraid of saying “no.” Understand she has reason to be. Please, do not approach me on a street corner. Do not make advances 30 seconds into the conversation. I will not trust you. Maybe you’re the most caring, qualified, kind individual in lovely College Park. That doesn’t change the threat you pose to me. It doesn’t change the fact that popular advice columns like this one remind men that “you want her to think you’re harmless” when asking for a woman’s number. Do you expect me to feel safe when I read that?

This issue starts at home. Let’s raise our men to not only respect women, but also to respect themselves. Teach your sons that they can cry, that they can feel hurt. They shouldn’t feel they have to express anything through unwarranted aggression. We can lower these needless occurrences. And if we do that, maybe my daughter won’t feel so on edge when she goes to pick up cereal and energy drinks from Target.

Erin Hill is a freshman psychology major. She can be reached at erin.mckendry.hill@gmail.com.