My early career was in retail and it was a busy environment. There were so many times I felt uncomfortable about the comments made by the men. We women shrugged it off, said we should be flattered, or felt prude and uncool if we expressed offense.
I was in college at the time and my manager was sitting in the back of the office watching me from behind as I waited on a customer. After the customer left, he asked me if I had been a cheerleader in high school. I was the furthest thing from that, so I looked at him with a baffled expression. He said, I couldn't help but notice how toned and muscular your legs are. I bet you would have been something to watch.
I never wore a skirt to work after that. He even remarked on that. My co-workers used to tease me that they wanted me to wear a skirt again so that he would be in a good mood.
That was only one time I felt uneasy. I had another manager who had the least subtle way in the world of trying to look down my blouse. He was tall and would come and stand next to me while I was doing paperwork, glancing down my shirt.
I talked to a trusted male and he said something like, "It's only harassment if you don't want the attention, so don't dress in a way that asks for attention." Victim blaming at its finest. Especially since what I was wearing was the dress code that the company dictated. Unless I bound my chest or butt, there was no way to conceal what was underneath my clothing.
Over and over, I felt like my appearance and not my professionalism was how I was evaluated at work. At one point, someone higher up invited me to lunch to discuss a possible promotion. He tried to kiss me at the end of the lunch and I awkwardly turned it into a very weird hug. He called me the next day and asked if I would be interested in attending an out of town conference that would offer some good networking opportunities for me. The whole incident made my skin crawl. But I never said anything. (I didn't go to the conference, either).
Shortly after that, I became pregnant with our first child. I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to continue working and truthfully, I think part of the reason I walked away was that I didn't think my career would go forward if I wasn't willing to be a plaything.
Fast forward to middle age, restless housewife. I've reached the point in my life that I am more or less invisible. At 51 and a little chubby, I don't get cat-calls and I don't worry that I'm only getting noticed because I have cleavage or nice legs. And that feels a little weird, too, if I'm being honest.
What makes me even happier? My oldest is now a college graduate. She experienced a "MeToo" moment and was outraged. OUTRAGED! I was so proud of her for not being confused or thinking she had done something wrong.
Progress, albeit slow, but progress.
Women, speak up.
