As often happens, I’d just written the word elegant in responding to an article about the 3 women who came forward publicly together this AM to tell their stories of harassment by Donald Trump. Don’t worry … I will not use my blog for political talk.
Like most women, I’ve had experience with male acts of sexual aggression. I won’t talk about the bigger ones, but to bring the point home about how even the smallest things can hit hard: Long ago and far away in the land of my daily job, a co-worker I thought was cute said to me that he liked watching me walk because I looked so graceful and elegant. He said it genuinely, with no trace of sleeze. I heard the compliment and was flattered. But as the days went on, I realized I’d become self-conscious about walking around since that conversation. This was my workplace. I didn’t want to have to feel self-conscious about my body there!
I finally spoke to the colleague. It was very hard to do; I stuttered and fumbled for the words. He was shocked, apologized, said he shouldn’t have said it and that he’d kind of known it before he spoke. Things got a little better, but not altogether. And I think the fact that I remember it in such detail 40 yrs later speaks volumes.