365 Days That Count Day 292 - #MeToo - My Story. Girls: I’m sorry it’s taken so long. Boys: we won't stand for it any longer, you shouldn't either. ♀ ☯

It’s taken me a long time to write this post, too long. The first time I saw #MeToo it hit me in the chest like a sledgehammer and I couldn't go to the place it was taking me to straight away. It's been buried for a long time and I didn't want to feel everything it makes me feel all over again. But if I want change, I have to go there, at least for a while.

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Like so many girls I have been subjected to unwanted advances, endured the receiving end of revolting slurs about who and what I am and on more than one occasion have been taken advantage of in the kind of way that leaves you feeling filthy, guilty and used and haunts your dreams forever. I’ve had all sort of hands linger on me in all sorts of places. Strangers walking past and grabbing my bum, friends of my parents hugging me hello and holding on for far too long, my most serious boyfriend’s dad making me feel so uncomfortable I dreaded having to spend time with him. All of this is normal to me, I’m used to it, it’s happened since I was about 13. But I realise now just because it’s been my reality doesn’t make it acceptable and it certainly doesn’t make it normal. It’s not fucking normal at all.

I’ve learnt to be careful of who I make eye contact with, who I’m nice to and how friendly I can be without "encouraging" something I don't wish to reciprocate. Isn't that sad?

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Just because I'm female I'm fair game and therefore can't approach the world in as I would like to; in an open, honest and caring way. Instead, I have to be guarded, cynical and protective and when I'm not, it usually comes back to bite me. I've become better at it in the last few years because of one awful night with one awful man who took it far too far, but it started long before that.

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When I was 17 an older family friend took me out and got me completely hammered before driving me back to his flat and taking advantage of my lack of awareness and inhibition. I wasn’t screaming no but I was in and out of consciousness, you tell me how that’s consensual. I woke up the next day feeling dirty and confused and unable to look him in the eye. I got out of there as soon as I could without once challenging him on his behaviour for which he had offered no apology, I didn’t even think badly of him, as society had taught me - I blamed myself. He would message me making suggestive comments about that night and how he’d like to repeat it and I never once called him out. It took me years to even realise he was the one at fault and that it had happened to me not because of me.

The same year I went to a West Life concert with a group of friends and became the unknowing target of the man behind me whose eye I had caught whilst he was sitting with his children and mother. He overheard my name, tried to join our conversation, bought me a drink - which I tipped over - and then finally asked a member of staff for my number. The concert venue was my dad’s and he had obviously seen me interact with the staff throughout the night. I didn’t know this till later so when he left I breathed a sigh of relief having felt his eyes burning into the back of my head all night. But sadly that wasn’t the end of him, about twenty minutes after he’d left I received the first of what would be many sick calls and voice messages that make my stomach turn just thinking about them 11 years later. I only answered twice, that first night when I was so confused I didn’t really take it seriously and then again the next day when I was standing in the chemist with my mum, I remember asking him how old he was, being told he was 41 and telling him I was 17, not interested and asking him to please leave me alone. He didn’t, for 3 weeks he called and called leaving message after message about what he’d do to teach me how to be a woman, how he’d make me feel, how he could take care of me in every way. I felt sick and scared and somehow responsible. Had I been too loud and over the top? I must’ve done something to make him think he could come over and try and talk to me and then take it to this extreme. He begged for my address so he could send flowers and started getting aggressive about his desire to see me in person which pushed me over the edge so I finally told my dad the details of what had been going on. He answered the next phone call, I don’t know exactly what was said but the man never called again.

I've been followed to my car countless times with my heart racing in my throat trying to walk with out running only to lock the doors and sob. I've had guys forcefully try and kiss me and then get aggressive when I shove them off. I was followed around an airport by a group of men for 3 hours until I finally hid in the women's prayer room till I could board. I've been shouted at, talked down to, dismissed, disregarded and disrespected more times than I care to remember. Water off a ducks back right? Wrong.

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It is not harmless or okay, we should not have to tolerate it and because we do we make it easier for these men to continue to treat us like sides of meat instead of souls. We can't stand for it. No women should accept it and no man should allow it. Only when we make it totally unacceptable in our society will it stop but sadly, so often both men and women turn a blind eye when they know they shouldn't because, frankly, it's easier than getting involved and standing up for what's right. I was at the receiving end of such apathy a few years ago in what turned out to be the worst night of my life. At our company Christmas function one of the directors, who had always been jealous of my relationship with his partner, took advantage of me in a such a blatant, shameless and revolting way that I resigned a few months later and couldn't talk about it until fairly recently. The fact that he was married with children seemed to mean nothing to this man as he plied me with alcohol and became so fixated on where I was and what I was doing that everyone thought it was a joke. I was clueless in the beginning, it had been a hard year, I'd organised the function and was finally letting my hair down in what I thought was and should've been the safest environment.

I'm not going to go into the details, they make me want to vomit. But the point is that in the end not only did he literally kid nap me, take me off to some dark alley when he'd told me we were meeting the others to get my nearly paralytic self into his car, but the only people who helped me were two girls.

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When I woke up all I knew what that I had no car, no phone and I remembered having an argument with my mum when I got home. This turned out to be because it was him who dropped me off. I was still hammered by the time mum drove me to Long Street to find my car. I got to work trying to keep my shit together, the sickness in my stomach telling me something bad had happened. My colleague and close friend that had been my main protector came out to meet me, we sat in the car and went through what we knew trying to piece the details together. By the time she told me about him trying to force open the cubicle door as I sat on the loo and she held it closed and then sneaking me into his car and driving off as she ran across the road to try and get me out as I waved stupidly out the window thinking we were meeting them at the next place, I was in tears and physically sick to my stomach.

She was furious and adamant that we should tell his partner and resign. I was broken. I felt dirty and confused and somehow guilty. To this day I'm grateful for her immediate support and absolute refusal to allow me to blame myself, she was there, she saw what happened, it was not my fault.

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I don't know how I managed to get through the rest of the day but I did and thank God he didn't come into the office. The next morning, sober and a little less fragile I was ready to confront him.

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I called on my way to work and asked him to meet me in the restaurant, I wasn't going to his office, he wasn't my boss, he was just a disgusting human being who needed to be told exactly what I thought of him. I was shaking with rage and he was sweating with anxiety. I told him that he had taken advantage of me in the most despicable way, that he had disrespected me and everyone else there, that he was never to consider me a notch on his belt as I would never have touched him had I known what the fuck was going on, he could've been a lamppost, I wouldn't have known the difference. I told him that if it wasn't for his partner I would take this as far as I could but for his sake I was going to let it be - I don't know if this was the right decision but I was just holding it together and wasn't ready for it to become gossip, I still felt such displaced guilt - I told him that I wasn't going to lose sleep over it but he should, that he should be ashamed and sickened by himself and that I wanted nothing to do with him. We hadn't really worked closely in the 3 years I'd been with the company and this would now be a rule. He sat there, shaking his head, saying he was sorry until eventually he stuck out a shaking, sweaty hand and asked for a truce. I was emotionally spent, I'd given everything to not let him see how deeply this had effected me so I shook his hand, got up and left for the day.

I didn't want anyone to know and my friend respected my decision although she didn't agree with it. I was suffering from what I now know to be victim's guilt and I just wanted the whole thing to go away. I ignored my mother's constant questions about what had happened, I avoided the boss that I loved till I could look him in the eye once more and I did my best to get on with life and put it behind me.

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I succeeded to an extent but my work was definitely effected and a few months later I decided it was time for me to move on. I couldn't look at him anymore or have him interrupt every meeting I had with his partner for fear I was telling him what had happened. It took me another 2 years to finally work up the courage to tell him the truth and I hated how his face dropped as I watched him try and justify the story I had just told him. We've never spoken about it again but the fact that we still speak, that he called me a few days ago and suggested our usual catch up lunch, tells me he believes me even if his 25 year partnership makes doing anything about it almost impossible. I don't expect him to do anything, but I'm glad he knows that's why I left him so suddenly.

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It has taken me nearly a week to get this post out. It has made my stomach turn and brought up every feeling of guilt and hurt about what happened to the extent that I nearly deleted the whole thing on numerous occasions. It is far from eloquently written and I hope you will forgive me for that, but I decided that being brave enough to put it out there meant far more than how well it was written.

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As with every other hardship, this one and the ones that came before and after have served their purpose as teachers, they are certainly lessons I don't wish to repeat but I am stronger now, strong enough and brave enough to tell the truth and set myself free of the sins of others. It is time to speak up, #MeToo has become the beginning of something, but it can't be the end. As women we need to stand together as sister and our brothers need to stand with us. Don't let yourselves be tarnished by a few, don't turn a blind eye. Remember;

"The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."

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Enough is enough. Let's move forward with love and respect. We are not sides of meat, we are beautiful, magical, light and life bearing creatures and when we recognise that in ourselves, we will teach others to do the same.

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Love,

Daisy xx

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