Obviously, this one got written after the #metoo movement. It didn’t get published because talking about it was new and still felt taboo. To be honest, I didn’t want to rock the boat, fearful about what others might think. Always a little concerned about future employers opinions…you never know where this could end up!
There are a few people I know who would probably describe me as a man-hater when I wasn’t around, which is fine because I can’t control a damn thing people do and say behind my back. There’s no point wasting any time on how ‘others’ describe me, I can only do me, boo.
After months of loud, strong, and powerful female voices coming forward; cheers to finally finding the balls to speak about my own.
If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote ‘me too’ as a status, we might give me people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.
One in four women by the age of 22 will have been assaulted or raped. This is only the REPORTED statistic, estimates are around 1 in 2 women.
I am a part of that statistic because of course, me too.
It was 6th grade and I was at the park with my friend. We were headed up a ladder to get to the tallest slide on the jungle gym when a boy came power climbing behind me and grabbed my rear and slapped it.
Naturally, I shouted, “Don’t touch me you little asshole!”
Three seconds later my friend’s mom came running over, asked what happened and scolded me for using a swear word. Never be that adult, I can only hope if I ever had a daughter she’d call the kid a little asshole, too.
When I was twenty-four I met a girlfriend in New Orleans for its famed Mardi Gras. On the second night, I hailed a taxi to get back to the hotel early because men were taking advantage of being in a large crowd and letting their hands wander.
Three DIFFERENT men swiped their finger up my ass crack. My pants were thinner than jean material, and each time I would whip around to say my peace the men would be lost in the crowd. I didn’t want to be that “overdramatic female making a scene” by shouting obscenities at a group of random people.
Now, how many of you just asked yourself if I was trashed, wearing provocative clothing or asking for it? Be honest. For the record, neither question is viable.
I can’t count the number of times some dude has hung out a car window and shouted something disgusting.
You don’t know how many times I wanted to throw down with a dude because I was so sick and tired of the unwanted advances.
Don’t get me started on misogynistic bosses who’d ask if I was one of them “feminist bra-burning” chicks, or encouraged me to “spin for them” upon the first meet. I yanked my hand out his hand before he could turn me.
And there’s not enough fingers and toes to count the number of times I wanted to rip my skin off and shower until I was raw.
Jessica Rabbit has been saying it for decades.
And I’m not even close to her stature. There’s no hope.
My husband and I recently had a discussion about the Me Too movement during the Larry Nassar trials. The morning news was flooded with testimony from the victims and he couldn’t take it anymore, he shouted out, “I JUST WANT THE NEWS.”
To which I spatted, “IF IT WERE REVERSED WOULD IT BE NEWS THEN?”
He meant no harm, doesn’t side with Larry Nassar or think this movement is frivolous. He couldn’t take imagining a doctor taking advantage of young girls, couldn’t fathom it nor understand it.
That husband of mine likes problems he can solve, and this was a problem he had no solution for…but it led to a great conversation about what the solution is and will be.
It’s to teach our sons how to treat a woman, communicating what’s suitable and not. Stopping bad behavior when we see it within our friend circle and correcting the subtle jabs in conversation about women being the weaker species.
“Women base a lot of their judgments on incorrect feelings,” said a friend.
“Dr. Dre made all of HIS business decisions regarding his music, based off what his gut was telling him,” said I. “Pretty sure his gut and my feelings are the same idea.”