How to Tame your Stalker~

Lesson 4. Never run

First off, let's get one thing straight—running is overrated, and quite frankly, it's for amateurs. This is real life, not some low-budget horror flick where the heroine runs in terror, gasping for breath as she trips over the one random stick on the ground and falls flat on her face. You know exactly what I'm talking about. It's practically a rite of passage in horror movies for the protagonist to turn around and sprint, only to end up in a tangle of limbs, at the mercy of the villain. But here's the thing: running is the exact thing your stalker *wants* you to do. Running tells them one thing and one thing only—*you're scared.* It hands them power on a silver platter, along with a side of "Come chase me, please." And guess what? We're not handing them that satisfaction.

Running isn't just physically exhausting (and let's be real, who wants to be out of breath while also being creeped on?), it's also psychologically exhausting. Every footstep, every turn, every frantic glance over your shoulder just screams *victim.* Your stalker? They're getting off on it. They love the chase, the fear, the frantic energy. Running turns you into prey. So, here's your new motto: *Don't. Run.*

Instead, the next time you catch sight of that familiar figure lingering in the shadows, channel your inner badass. Take a slow, deep breath. You're not prey, you're the hunter. You're not going to play their game. You're going to rewrite the rules. Slow your pace. Don't bolt. In fact, walk even slower than you were before. Be deliberate. It's like telling them, "I see you, but you don't scare me. In fact, you're so beneath my attention, I'm not even in a rush to get away."

Think about it. Walking slowly not only takes back control of the situation, but it'll also drive your stalker absolutely insane. They're expecting the chase, but you're not giving it to them. You're denying them their fun. You're saying, "I'm not your victim, I'm not even playing your game." It'll mess with their head in the best possible way. And let's be honest, there's something wildly empowering about that. Imagine it: while they're hiding, waiting for you to panic and run, you're strolling along as if it's just another day at the park. They're left wondering why the hell you're not scared, and suddenly, *you* are in control of the situation, not them.

Now, if you really want to take it to the next level—add a little flair. We're talking casual, nonchalant, maybe even toss in a little whistle. That's right, whistle a happy little tune like you're the star of your own movie and this is the part where the hero emerges victorious. Why? Because it adds that extra layer of "I couldn't care less" to the whole scenario. You're not just walking away; you're *unbothered* walking away. Picture this: You catch sight of them lurking. You slow down, smile to yourself, and then—*you start whistling.* It's like the ultimate psychological power move. They're thinking, "Wait, why is she so calm? Why isn't she running?" You've just turned the tables.

And let's be honest here—running just leads to all sorts of unnecessary risks. Tripping, falling, spraining an ankle... all for what? To give them exactly what they want? No, thank you. Walking means you're in control, you're aware of your surroundings, and you're thinking strategically. You're not the hapless victim in some slasher film; you're the cool, calculated mastermind who sees their moves five steps ahead. And that? That's terrifying to them.

In conclusion, remember this: running equals fear, fear equals power for them, and we're not giving that power away. Walk slow. Own the moment. And if you can, whistle while you do it—because nothing freaks out a stalker more than someone who refuses to be scared. You're not their victim; you're their worst nightmare.