me too.

I haven’t posted this on Facebook because I’m questioning myself. Because I consider myself one of the luckiest women I know, and that’s not because I have a slate clear of harassment.

Look at all the women who have come forward. Are my experiences on par with theirs?

Should I say me too because an anonymous someone (boy? girl?) grabbed my ass at the 8th grade dance and I couldn’t tell who it was? Why do I feel the need to be politically correct and not assume gender when I know another girl didn’t grab me like that?

Should I say me too because I told a boyfriend no once, and he climbed on top of me anyway? Should I say me too even though he apologized?

Should I say me too because of all the warnings my mother ever gave me? For every time she asked me to call or text her when I was home safe.

Should I say me too for every time I thought about how I might defend myself? Car keys. Gun. Fists. Lamp. Chair. Phone. Dogs. Whatever was in reach.

Should I say me too because of the cat calls and whistles and leers that I can’t even count?

Should I say me too because there are women I know who won’t, who have had experiences far worse than mine?

There is not a woman alive who has a clean slate, whether they tell you or not. 


I came across something today that has me re-thinking this post.

The #metoo movement isn’t just about women. Terry Crews, Brendan Fraser. 15 men coming forward to confront Kevin Spacey. Harassment and abuse happens to men, too. By other men. By women. Predators take many forms. Men laugh it off as a joke. “It happened, but I was just kidding.” Women are ignored.