#met#metoo has completely taken social media. What some of you don't see. The ones like myself who was through a horrible domestic violence relationship with my teenage boyfriend and then husband. This is beyond TRIGGERING!!
Not only was I hurt by my spouse, for years. But in 2006 when I was attending Massage Therapy School, we had to do massage clinical with other students. I was extremely sick and nobody thought I was going to make it through school. This other student, Ron, nice guy always wanted to help me with my migraines so after lunch we were always teamed together. I was innocent and naive. He was scum. He took advantage of me lying on the massage table, sexually harassing in a sweet charming way while lye in nothing but my panties. It was uncomfortable. It was wrong. I knew it wasn't right. He had to be stopped. But I was in shock. I was frozen speechless. Later I told a fellow friend she suggested I tell the teacher. I reported it. My teacher told me " we're all about to graduate, it's an isolated incident just don't say anything else" OH. And that was it. I left massage school feeling violated by a class mate and failed by my own teacher. To this day I dont practice Massage Therapy. .
So when you see #metoo know there's a deeper story. A deeper violation, and some can be damaging from triggers.
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At first I wasn't going to post a #MeToo status, my self conscious actually said "but hasn't every girl been harassed or abused?" I was shocked that I was willing to shrug it off as an "isn't that just life" sort of thing. So I snapped out of that toot sweet and here you go big bad world. Sexual Harassment, name calling, shaming and lies, groping and ass slapping, unwanted advances and been manipulated into situations in an attempt to survive... Me Too. ✌🏼💛👯 #womenwhoroar#metoo#womenempowerment#girlboss#standup#beheard#beseen#istandwithyou#wehavetochange 💕
#day##30 of 365
Today, I celebrate letting go of shame.
I don't know how in touch with social media y'all are. On Twitter, there has been a hashtag trending (meaning it's being used frequently across the world) that says #metoo. After a few hours, the # also flooded other social media platforms, such as Facebook and Instagram. It means stepping away from victim-shaming and -silencing, connecting hundreds of thousands of women (yes. I know men can be victims, too). The hashtag came with the caption:
"If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote 'Me, too.' as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem."
Now. This is one of the hashtags you a) really don't want to see because every. single. one. is one too many, and b) really appreciate seeing because it means that you are not alone.
And frankly, I've seen it so often now, I don't think I know any woman who has not once in her life been a victim of sexual harassment or assault, be it some guys catcalling them from across the street, their boss always being a little too close, their co-workers joking about how they would just love to see them naked, their neighbor eyeing their 13-year-old body, commenting "how much of a woman" they've become, or a total stranger touching their butt in a club. All harmless stuff, right? No.
No. This is not a joke. This is the world women live in. This is the world dominated by sexual predators. What kind of a f**ked up world is it, if we need a hashtag with more than 200.000 people speaking up, to make our stories 'believable'?
"You're overreacting", "He didn't mean it that way", "Well, he was drunk", "Boys will be boys", "Okay but are you sure you didn't encourage him?" or "What did you wear, though?" - sound familiar? Because I've heard all of those. I myself have been told or asked each and every one of these statements/questions. I know I'm not the only one. And a woman not using the # doesn't mean she hasn't experienced anything like that. It might just as well mean she's not ready to say something. Side note: The stories we hear are those one can bear to tell.
I don't want to be ashamed anymore. It's not our fault. It is not.
If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote "Me too." as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.
Copy and paste onto your public feed.
I've been seeing people share snippets of their stories, so I'm editing this to tell a bit of mine in order to 1) raise awareness 2) personalize the overwhelming sea of "me too" 3) share my experience 4) celebrate my strength and resilience 5) shine a light for those who are still healing and don't yet have the safety to tell their stories.
My me too:
Too many instances to describe. The first time I was sexually assaulted I was a child. A young child. But, I survived. And now I thrive. #MeToo#IRise#iamawarrior#IStandWithYou#healing
DISCLAIMER: Do not read if you get triggered by the topic of sexual abuse.
Before I get into my story, let me say that I am sharing it now not to encourage anyone to stay in a state of feeling victimized, but to stand in solidarity with my fellow humans, male and female, who have been sexually assaulted or harassed. I wavered back and forth these past few days whether I should share this so publicly (only a handful of friends know about it). I decided it's worth it if the #MeToo movement helps rape and sexual assault survivors speak up and be heard.
I was twenty years old, a virgin who never had a boyfriend. I grew up sheltered, and at that point, had only kissed one guy (not the one this story is about).
He was a respected personality in the field I was working in. I've always been keen on learning, so I asked him questions. He offered to answer them over a meal. I thought nothing of it, as people I knew looked up to him, and he was married, with a family. Back in those days, I thought that was a factor that kept a good person—which I was convinced he was—from doing anything considered inappropriate.
After the meal, he offered to show and teach me more. I was hesitant, but kept reasoning with myself that this was an opportunity, and surely someone such as he would not attempt anything funny.
When I was alone with him, he asked me to take off my clothes because "I just want to see." I said no. I said I didn't want to. After that his tone got gruffer, and I slowly complied, hesitating even more when it came to my panties. I didn't believe him when he said, "I just want to look." And you can probably guess what happened next.
For years, I played it off like there was nothing wrong with what happened. I didn't really tell anyone, and the picture I painted to the couple of friends I did tell was that I had sex for the first time, like it was completely consensual and normal. Coming from such an innocent, inexperienced place, I was confused. I was in denial that this man adored by many—who was known for helping so many—could have done something wrong.
To anyone in the same boat, I want to tell you: IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT. ❤