After finishing my homework, I always check in on Facebook. I just like to make sure that the world hasn’t fallen apart in the last few hours while flipping between D2L and Hulu. I saw a bunch of my friends posting #metoo, and I didn’t get it. Figured it must be some Game of Thrones thing that I was behind on.
But, then, I googled “#metoo” and my heart dropped into my stomach. I saw that these were all public expressions of the sexual assault and harassment that has become so commonplace in my urban life. But, my heart also dropped because I had done a good job of not thinking about my old high school sweetheart in a long time.
My first Halloween in the dorms was awful, but not because I dressed up as a Slutty XYZ and embarrassed myself publicly. I didn’t get lost off of Addison, and I didn’t throw up in any frat house. My highschool sweetheart surprised me by coming up from his state school. I got a text asking what my dorm was and ten minutes later we were together for the first time in almost two months and I thought I could cry I was so happy. But later, he wanted me to prove how excited I was to see him, and I wasn’t quite ready. And thankfully I hadn’t locked the door to the bathroom so my suite mate’s boyfriend was able to come in and stop him after he heard my screams. It was the worst day of my entire life, and it’s one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever gone through. I didn’t tell any of my best friends from middle and high school at first, because I still loved him and felt I owed it to him to not embarrass him. But I don’t. And I didn’t. I’ve still only told two, because it somehow feels like saying something now would be drudging up the past when we were still together.
Maybe someday I will be able to say #metoo in public and I won’t worry about my mom looking at me differently. But, that’s not today. Hopefully, my own daughter wouldn’t have this fear. But even more, I hope she doesn’t have this situation in the first place. I can tell myself that it’s not my fault. But, I can’t say it out loud yet. So, today, I tell you that, yes, #metoo, and soon…I’ll tell you what that means to me. I know I don’t owe anyone my story, but I still struggle with maintaining ownership over the narrative that I had no control over in the first place.
So, I encourage you to take tonight for yourself. Read a book, or listen to music, or watch something that makes you feel warm inside. Get dolled up or dress like you’re going to bed if that makes you feel good. You are loved and cared for and valuable in many ways.