I’ve been thinking about:
– that time I was walking with two friends down the street and a man walking by poked me in the breast. I was wearing a zippered hoodie and jeans.
– that time a stranger grabbed my butt in a club and by the time I turned around, he was gone. I was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and jeans.
– that time the guy I was dating tried to pressure me into doing things I didn’t want to and then made me feel bad that he couldn’t sleep because I hadn’t given in. This is after I said I didn’t want to go over to his place and he insisted we would just sleep.
– that time a male classmate in grammar school made a thrusting gesture behind me with a broom.
– that time a stranger told me to smile.
– all those times I repeatedly dismissed advances from the same guy in a light-hearted manner so as not to hurt his feelings.
– that time I said I wanted to take it slow and he said that was fine and then didn’t respect it.
– that time he kept putting his hand on my knee even though I moved my leg away. And chose a table that literally put me in a corner. And played with my earring even though I leaned away from him. And then was confused about why I didn’t want a second date. And how I said I didn’t feel a connection because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
These are all things I’ve told my female friends. Scratch that—most of them are things I’ve told my friends. Others I haven’t, because they happened so long ago or they’re embarrassing or I didn’t think to—they things happen to us too often over the years to make a “big deal” about it every time.
When we tell each other these stories, we know they’re true. We have no reason to make them up. They’re part of our everyday lives.
And have any of the people committing the acts suffered any consequences? No.
These experiences, I’ve only recently realized, seem unbelievable to some people.
Why didn’t she just say no, some people ask.
My response is, I did. And, there are many times I wasn’t given the chance to say no. And, no isn’t taken seriously by some men.
She was drunk, some people say. She was wearing revealing clothing, some people say. My response is, I have been sober and worn modest clothing, and these things still happened to me.
I am thankful, of course, for friends and family who have heard and believed and shared these stories. More recently, as these conversations have come up more often with men I know, I am thankful for those who are equally horrified that other men do these things that they would not think of doing.
I recently had a conversation with an acquaintance who, without even a word from me defending Dr. Ford, launched into a defense of Kavanaugh and how many people have testified to what a great guy he is. He touched my shoulder and asked if I would report him thirty-eight years from now, as if I didn’t know the difference between an acquaintance tapping my shoulder and someone trying to rip my clothes off. Later, after my heart stopped pounding and my anger died down, I realized that this acquaintance was defending himself. Neither of us knows Ford or Kavanaugh. Neither of us was there. Why do we get so riled up about it?
Because we know ourselves. We know our values. We know how we perceive our experiences. This guy has offered to take me home. Has had the potential to make me feel uncomfortable with suggestive remarks if I weren’t so self-possessed around him and therefore comfortable brushing him off. I always laugh it off with him and chalk it up to him being an incorrigible flirt, which is true. But the truth? I can laugh and joke and talk with him, but I would never take him up on an offer to go out or be given a ride, whereas I wouldn’t hesitate with other men I know. This is based on instinct, not on anything he has done wrong—surely he and many other people would say he has done nothing wrong. And he hasn’t with me. But I sensed a long time ago to set boundaries with him because he wouldn’t respect them otherwise. And now, after this conversation, I know why I felt that way. The way he kept urging me to make my arguments about Ford vs. Kavanaugh after we had already discussed it a bit and I repeatedly said I didn’t want to talk about it anymore showed that a clear and direct “no” is not enough for him. He wanted to keep talking about it and he wanted to prove his point.
Before I go channel my anger in a productive manner, I am reminding myself of:
– that male friend who told me about how at a bar a male acquaintance of his wouldn’t leave a female acquaintance of theirs alone, and how he took that guy aside and told him not to go near her again.
– the man I once dated who, at his place, asked me if I wanted it to go any further.
– the male friends whom I have slept in the same room with and made me feel comfortable and safe.
– the man who told me he can’t believe some of the creeps his female colleagues have to deal with when online dating. How speaking with them has opened up his eyes to the differences in men and women’s experiences.
– the male bosses I’ve had who have always treated me with respect.
– the males in my family who have set a good example.
– the man who took my ‘no’ graciously and maturely.
– the man who, months after reacting poorly to my ‘no,’ apologized to me for treating me unfairly.
I don’t know any woman who wants to take out her anger on good men. Good men don’t have to worry. Good men are what give me a bit of faith.
What I want is for my word to be respected and taken seriously. For my body to not be viewed as something to be poked at or taken lightly.
I’m not going to speak for Ford or my female friends or family. They have their own stories, and I’ve heard and witnessed many of them. But I guarantee that in speaking for myself, my experiences resonate with them. This is our reality.