Oblivious Maximus
I am the worm
Came across this earlier on FB:
Me too.
Not "me too" because I've been a victim of sexual abuse or harassment, thankfully, but because I have been a harasser.
In college I felt entitled to the affections of women, friends, who I pined for and pursued and hounded mercilessly and moped about and tormented.
At age 27, I went on several dates with a woman and we got so drunk together that she came to worry about my intentions. That would never have been the case, or at least I feel like I knew as much. But it behooved me to learn that the fear was real, and valid, and that I had to know the impression I was conveying.
At any time during those ten years, and before and after, I wouldn't have hesitated to describe myself as a feminist, the way I was raised. But I didn't know what that meant. I ignored boundaries, I disregarded women's agency, and I placed my own feelings and wishes above a woman's right to feel safe.
And why did I behave that way, if I should have known better? Because every movie, every love song, every TV show, every comic book showed it working. These are the gears inside the machine that drives our popular culture, our national identity, our entire society. I was always told that you had to respect other people, but showing is stronger than telling, and I was always shown the lesson that the good guy gets the girl. Everyone is the hero of their own story, and believing I was a good guy allowed me to act badly.
A friend back in college screwed up her nerve once and told me that I had issues with women. It knocked the wind out of me, partly because…"What? No. Not me. I'm not like that." But mostly because it hit me that it was true. She was right, and I didn't even say so. I didn't want to believe it, but I never forgot it. And I never did tell her how deeply that conversation impacted me. To this day I haven't.
The fact that some of those women are so generous and forgiving—or just so used to it—that they still consider me a friend, ten or even twenty years later, is secretly the worst shame and regret I live with. I'm not keeping it as my shameful secret anymore. I feel so bad for not having been a better man. I'm talking about it. (I won't tag anyone publicly here, but I'll be reaching out to them individually.)
I never did think that this had to be talked about, because I believed that any explanations or apologies or "I've changed" would ring as hollow as the things said by powerful men exposed doing monstrous things. I thought I'd just keep my head down, be better, and quietly let my improved behavior change these friends' opinions of me over time. After these women continued to share their kindness, after I saw that purely through the grace of their own patience and forgiveness I still had them around, I figured I'd have years, even decades of friendship ahead of us to show, and not tell, that I was making an effort to be better.
But I also have to admit that was just an excuse not to open up about this, which is shameful to me and which has been hurtful to others. And if recent and less-recent situations in the public eye have impressed anything upon me, it's that this has to be talked about. It isn't women's problem to solve. They aren't the ones doing it. We men who are so goddamn insistent on always talking over women, here's our chance: men have to talk about this.
I know why men stick up for other men in the face of allegations. It's because we all have potential allegations lurking in our past. Yes, all men. And maybe, if some of you dudes are even reading this, you're thinking, "None of what you've said is that bad, man. You had lovelorn crushes on girls in college. You got drunk on a date. Nothing happened. It wasn't assault, it wasn't rape."
It doesn't matter. I crossed a line. Repeatedly. That line is in perfect focus. Men like to claim it's blurry. Woody Allen despairs that a man winking at a woman at work may have to hire a defense attorney. This isn't a case of "Where does it end??" It's "Where does it begin?" Amy Poehler wrote that "no" is the end of the conversation, not the start of the negotiation. It's as simple as that. We trample over women's autonomy, we disregard their agency, we feel entitled to them, we objectify, we idolize, we browbeat, we strongarm, we cajole, we whine, we beg, we chase, we harass, we threaten, we rape, we kill.
I'd like to say I'm a better man today. But if I've learned anything, anything at all, it's that I don't ultimately know and it isn't for me to say. Because I would have said I was a good man at any time in my adult life, even when it wasn't the case. So all I can do now is act better. I respect women, I believe women when they speak up, and I try to be watchful of the countless, insidious ways we all perpetuate such a cruel and unfair society. The gears of the machine will grind up an individual, but not all of us. We have to push this machine back.