I don't know your posts much; we probably don't inhabit the same threads for whatever reason. I suspect from the few I've noticed tonight that we are diametrically opposed, politically, but this isn't about that. I don't care about Donald Trump. I'm not angry at him. And I don't "know" that the story is true anymore than you might suspect it's not. But I just want to ask you - human-to-human - to do your best to set aside those feelings of suspicion to the extent you possibly can and re-read that story, focus on the words closely and especially on those that express the feelings of shame, of powerlessness, of the aftermath rather than the (alleged) actions themselves.
You might not know me either, so I'll tell you just a little bit about me, if you would indulge me a minute. I went to a law school that was 65% male and chose to go into an area of law where I'm primarily dealing with men, and in many cases very powerful men - men such as one who was (might still be, don't know) #1 on the Forbes list. That's because, in my career, I became pretty powerful myself for a time, and while that seems like a brag, I'm not sure how to avoid its relevance to what I'm going to ask you to do. Anyway, couldn't tell you the number of times I've walked into a board room or a conference room of a couple dozen people and found I'm the only woman there. And while it's noticeable in the room, it never bothered me that I can recall - I get along well with men, in fact better than with women a lot of the time if I were being embarrassingly honest. It was just...a thing. That I dealt with and didn't really think much about.
As I read this article, taking out the specifics of Trump or exactly what happened, I recognized almost every word, every feeling of it.
This: "
I was still in shock, and remained speechless."
This: "Did he think I’d be flattered?"
Particularly this: "I tried to act normal. I had a job to do, and I was determined to do it."
This: "My shock began to wear off, and was replaced by anger. I kept thinking ...Why couldn’t I say anything?"
Definitely this, oh definitely: "
I’d been up all night worrying—had I done something to encourage his behavior?"
This: "
But, like many women, I was ashamed and blamed myself for his transgression."
And oddly enough, most of all this: "I minimized it (“It’s not like he raped me…”)"
Because honestly, until I read this, I knew I'd experienced some of this but still didn't think it was that big of deal, for this very reason. I not only wasn't raped, but I've never experienced anything nearly as severe as
this writer alleges or the others today have alleged - no tongues shoved down throats, no hands shoved up skirts, just the kind of entry-level groping that I think most any woman would understand - squeezes, pinches, hands where they shouldn't be. The most notable being the General Counsel of a Fortune 50 company who out of the blue started telling me he and his wife had split up, though we weren't talking about him or his wife or anything but the Board meeting we had the next day, and he then made a physical move that I rebuffed but mild enough that I didn't feel threatened or assaulted or any of that, but instead just felt disappointed that I must not be giving off a professional enough persona, because if I had, he'd respect me enough not to do that. To his credit, he was so horrified by his behavior - or maybe he was scared of me - that the next day he made up an excuse to fly back to our home office, and when I found out he was leaving I asked him if this was the real reason why, and when he admitted it was, I told him not to worry about it, no sweat, and I continued to work for him for a couple of years, because I was a professional and I thought that's what professionals did.
Plus on a "lesser" scale (words only): the partner at my firm who, when I stood up after a meeting with him, asked me if I'd left a wet spot on the chair.
The 65-year-old married CEO of a client, whose IPO I had just completed and, after our closing dinner in NY, called me in the middle of the night in my hotel room to invite me over for some bellinis in his room (what an odd drink choice, by the way). And told me what he was wearing. Or more accurately, not wearing.
The CFO of a different company with whom I had to share an office for a period of months because we were working so closely on his company's IPO, and he simply moved into my office and we worked pretty well together for a while though I had some hesitation - just little things like touching me too much or too intimately, which now I realize no touching should have been OK, or making some weird statements that I just laughed off because what else was I going to do - I was a professional and we needed to get the IPO done and I was the person who could best do it and that was my job, you know - and I continued to ignore until one day I accidentally exclaimed "####!" (f word) because of some obstacle we'd come to unexpectedly, and then immediately apologized to the CFO, because I'm a professional and that's not professional and this is an important client, and he said, in a soothing voice, something along the lines of "Don't worry. It's not a bad word. You know that can really be a beautiful word." and then proceeded to start telling me in detail about how and why it was beautiful and that was it. Cut him off - politely, gently, laughing it off as if I just thought it was a joke so that I could give him an out because I was a professional and this was an important client - and shortly after I made an excuse to leave my office and went to the senior partner's office and asked, without telling him what had happened - because I'm a professional - but just vaguely mentioning that CFO were having some trouble working together due to the proximity and that we might have a more productive relationship and get the IPO done better if we had some more space, and the partner told me that it would be great if I could just hang in there instead because we were only a few months from launching the IPO and surely I could just deal with it until then.
And I did. You know why.
I've never considered myself a "victim" of anything - which would likely be much to the consternation of many feminists, with whom I might be very aligned on most things but not on this. Nothing I just typed felt cathartic or "necessary"; I'm not traumatized nor am I "triggered" by any of these stories coming out. Never felt angry at any of these guys - including the partner who blew me off, because I blamed myself for not being assertive enough - or the "wet spot" guy, who is actually a Facebook friend of mine though as you might imagine not quite a friend, and maybe I should let him know that's not OK but I likely never will - and I never asked for or needed an apology but only wanted to figure out how to make it stop without making waves, because I'm a professional and...you get it. Not for a second considered any "big" action, though I shared some of these experiences - and others - with friends whom I could trust, oddly enough all of them being guy friends.
None of it makes me special or unusual or having particularly bad luck or anything. Believe me that I'm not enticing to men in any special way such that they just can't help themselves. I've just assumed
all women experienced this (an assumption that is sadly seeming more and more true) and it was just some of the price we pay. After all, assuming I could get over the belief that it was
my fault, I had to believe that if it was happening so much to me - relatively successful, perceived correctly or incorrectly as very strong, in a position to mess with careers of some fairly "important" people - I am alarmed to think how much it happens to those who are not in positions of any power, who are more vulnerable.
In other words, if you think I'm posting something highly personal, my point in this regard is that it's
not personal to me. Not at all.
Again, I can't claim this particular woman's story is true. I don't think whether it is true is what's important, in the big scheme of things setting Presidential elections aside. What seems important to me is that we understand these things do happen, and the reasons why, and don't immediately start telling ourselves why they couldn't possibly have happened though it would be comforting to believe it, and we try to find common ground as to how to address it, outside the current politically charged atmosphere. Doesn't matter if you're D or R or liberal or conservative or even if you're a parent - I'm not - but this just seems so vitally important to me. And so I'm just hoping when you re-read this story (if you do) and later when you talk with your daughters about it - and I'm sure you're a good dad who will be doing that - you won't focus on its truth or falsity but will keep as much of the rest of this is mind as you can in framing your teaching to your children. Or if you can't maybe someone else can.
Believe it or not, I haven't even had a single glass of wine tonight, so I can't blame drunkenness for posting this.
Thanks for indulging me.