Men Have Choices (#MeToo 2018)

Originally published September 27, 2018

A million years ago, perhaps three weeks ago now, Louis C.K. insinuated himself back on to a comedy stage, appearing with no warning or prior consent of his audience, like a dick pulled out in front of an unsuspecting colleague. My partner suggested I write about it, but I had little to say other than 

Fuck that guy. 

Then I went out dancing a week or so ago with a group of female friends. I spent the evening fending off drunk, grabby men. 

At the end of the night I was furious, not just about what had happened but about how I was feeling: slightly ashamed and second guessing everything I had done.

Did I make a mistake when I smiled back at the man who was smiling at me while we danced in a group? Did I fuck up when I shook his hand and told him my name? Did I fuck up by smiling tightly and saying “thanks,” when he tugged on a strand of my hair and told me he liked it? Should I have yanked myself away, ignored his smiles and his attempts to engage me in conversation? I must have fucked up because at first I had rather enjoyed the attention. Light flirting can be harmless and flattering, and I had wrongly thought that he seemed sweet and that he wouldn’t get weird.

In short, was it my fault and should I have expected it when he grabbed my hips and plastered himself against my back? I pried his fingers away, twice I think, and eventually tried to leave the crowd of dancers to escape him. He pulled me back toward him and tried to kiss me. I ducked to avoid his kiss and said something dumb like, “It was nice to meet you but I have a boyfriend and I have to go.” His response was to nod and then take my hand and place it roughly on his dick which I could feel disturbingly clearly through his jeans. 

As I walked away as quickly as I could I was ashamed, disappointed and angry. I was mad at myself for being nice. I thought perhaps I should have been meaner right from the start. I was angry with myself for not protecting myself better, for the instinctual way I had been nice, receptive and worried about managing his feelings. 

Later that night at another bar a very drunk man who was idly pawing at various women came up to me and placed both his hands on my shoulders. I knocked his hands down firmly and said, “No.” I did not smile, I glared. And even though I was angry and in no mood, I found that harder to do than I imagined. My instinct, I learned that night, is not shut it down with a glare. I have been socialized to be nice to men, especially if they are showing interest in me. 

And then I got really fucking angry. Why shouldn’t I able to be nice to a guy who’s flirting with me at a bar without him grabbing my hand and sticking it on his dick? 

Why did I feel the need to manage the feelings of these men? Why must I manage their behavior? Why can’t they just behave themselves like adults? 

And as mad as I was, that was nothing. I was angry, violated, a little ashamed for no reason, but I was fine. It’s not even the grossest thing that has happened to me, and I’ve been fairly lucky so far. But it’s all related. It is an illustration of how so many men are taught to think of women as sexual property rather than people. 

Which brings us to these past few weeks. At least three women have now come forward to accuse Brett Kavanaugh of assaulting them. I believe them for many reasons, the least which is because I have seen that behavior before and know how common it is—it is related to the shit I experienced with those guys at the bar, just kicked up a few terrifying notches. 

Men have choices. Women, by talking about what men have done to them and reporting assault and warning the country about the assault they have suffered at the hands of say, the President or a SCOTUS nominee, are not “ruining” the lives or reputations of these men. It is often the opposite—the assault or harassment has scarred the women, affected their happiness and careers, and to speak publicly often brings them even more pain (Dr. Ford, for example, has had to move out of her house due to death threats.) 

Men, like everyone, have choices. Too often they make the wrong ones. I cannot understand why we lament about “ruining” men’s lives when in reality we rarely hold them responsible for the harm they do to women. If, as in the case of Harvey Weinstein or Les Moonves, their careers are ended, it is nobody’s fault but their own.