Your words and demeanor have to be as direct as your eye contact.
I had no qualms about saying things like, “I’m here alone on purpose. I’m leaving alone too.”
Also, I was a tough little badger, and I did real damage to men who thought they could pressure me into changing my mind.
I filed my nails into points, needle sharp. I had spent a lot of time when my nails were short, punching with my fingertips as one would with their fists. Once I had those nails long and shaped, I could punch into a throat to vertebrae, if I wanted to. I never did that, but I have drawn blood.
A big dumb guy once thought he would hit on me behind my boyfriend’s back. My bf was known to not mess around when he was mad, and people didn’t often try to cross him.
After that one attempt, stupid realized he would rather face my bf, than mess with me.
A lot of men hit on me, over three decades. I didn’t tend to take it as a personal affront, so much as they took a shot. I was like a feisty kitten at a bowl of milk. Another kitten comes along. I growl, and if they come closer claws flash out. Nothing personal, just an attempt, and denial.
A guy got in my cab once.
He offered me two hundred dollars to let him see me lift my top. I declined. He opened his wallet.
Holy macaroni there was a lot of cash in there. He said if I would show him, he would hand me his wallet I could remove however much of that cash I wanted.
I declined, and he was nice about it, and when I got him home he paid, tipped and said goodbye.
Most of the guys are not hyenas. Some are, most aren’t.