I have, since I was 14 and started taking public transportation on a regular basis. Something happened before that but I never considered it on the same level as daily sexual harassment, that was child molestation (pretty mild, no long-term scars, don't worry) so it doesn't really fit in here.
On the bus I took daily to go to school there was this old guy who used to touch us girl and rub himself all over us, taking advantage of the crowd. We all knew him, I don't know if anyone ever reported him honestly. He was this old crazy guy, but eventually I started waking up one hour earlier to get to school on foot because I was too disgusted to take the bus alone. That was the first of many times I changed my behavior to avoid harassment.
The summer of the same year, on the bus to the beach, I was seated, just minding my own business and listening to music, when I felt that the guy standing near me was getting too close. I turned around to say something just to find his dick right on my face, he was masturbating. I was with a friend who saw it all, she grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I was in shock.
A few months after that episode, again on the bus, this time with a friend and my little sister. I spot a suspicious guy with an hand in his pocket, clearly masturbating, and, given my past experiences, I already know what is going to happen. He is looking at my sister, I start to panick. This is memorable because it's the first time that I actively do something: I go to the driver, quickly explain the situation, and at the first stop I grab my sister and my friend and we run out of the bus. I have no idea what happened to the guy, but to this day I am so fucking happy that my sister didn't see anything.
But it wasn't always on a bus. Another time I was walking to the gym and this guy started following me. At first I barely noticed, but it was getting more and more clear that we weren't just walking in the same direction. I was 17 back then, so a bit more mature, but also on a very dim-lighted and deserted street, so I started to get scared. I crossed the street, he crossed behind me. I walked faster, he did too. I didn't want to run because I feared that that would have started a reaction on his part, but I didn't know what to do. Eventually we walked by a streetlight and I saw his shadow right when he was reaching toward me. I started running as fast as I could til I got to the gym, and then I started crying.
There are many, many more. But these four instances are so important to me because to this day these four men are influencing my behavior. The cat calling, the comments, the fear of finding myself alone at night, are worse because of these four experiences. I was verbally harassed at work, and it was disgusting and infuriating but manageable, in a way. But the fear of the unknown, of the stranger, is something that changed me in a way that often makes me dislike myself.
I value my independence more than anything, and I hate not being able to go home alone at night. I mean: I am able. I do, often. But I am so scared all the time! And I hate that. I hate being fearful of strangers. I hate to be scared of perfectly innocent men whose paths I cross on lonely alleys. I hate to be suspicious every time a stranger approaches me. I am kind, I love to help people, to know people, to explore and discover different lives. But often I just can't.
TL;DR: Yes. My story is boring. Don't read it.