I was watching an episode of David Letterman’s show on Netflix tonight, and he was interviewing Ellen Degeneres. Ellen talked about incidences of sexual abuse by her stepfather when she was a teenager. The quote she said…that I hear over and over from women…about why she didn’t say anything about the abuse (other than wanting to protect her mother) is that “women don’t feel they have a voice.” To add to that, Ellen’s mother believed the man over her daughter for 18 years after said abuse. This story that Ellen told brought up a memory for me…something I have never told a single soul but one. I buried the experience out of shame, but maybe it’s time to bring it to light…especially in light of the “Me Too” movement.

This is not a story of abuse (don’t panic, Mom), but it is a story about feeling I had no voice. When I was 23 years old, two years into my marriage (I’ll save the “why was I married at that age” story for another time), my ex-husband and I separated for the first time. We had just moved to Madison, Wisconsin, he was traveling 80% of the time, and I knew a whopping two people in Madison who were busy living their own lives. To fill up a lonely night at home, I went into a gaming room online one night to play cribbage I think…maybe it was poker. I honestly don’t remember. I met a guy in the chat room, and we started conversing. I was extremely unhappy at this time in my life. I didn’t have a career because I couldn’t find a teaching job in this new city, and I honestly really didn’t even know who I was or what I wanted out of life. I was lost. So I became emotionally involved with this stranger online back when the Internet was still fairly new. It was new and exciting and took my attention away from my confusion, fear, and loneliness. I had never left home until now (not even in college), I was in a new state, I was two years married when I had no business being married, and my husband was constantly out of town.

Long story short, my husband and I separated shortly after, and I moved back home and in with my parents. I was so seduced by this new “relationship” online that he convinced me to fly to California, wine country where he’s from, for a weekend get-a-away. He was 7 years older than me. I was so naive that I went. I met him at a bar near my hotel in Sacramento. Upon seeing him, I immediately felt turned off by him and knew it was a huge mistake. He wasn’t a bad man, but I wasn’t feeling it…at all. But at the impressionable young age of 23, I felt obligated to see this weekend through with this man. We are taught to please…not disappoint. Girls are expected to be “ladies” and to obey. This is something that has been ingrained for thousands of years into our collective consciousness. Because I had developed an emotional relationship with this stranger and had committed to this trip, I thought by default that I had to follow through with every expectation of this man thereafter. Guys, this is how almost ALL girls think when they are young and naive; they do not know any better. So I proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk and let him escort me back to my hotel. I had never been with a man sexually other than my husband. I let him have my body because I didn’t think I had any other options. He didn’t rape me. Honestly, this story has nothing to do with him. This story has everything to do with what society and generations of expectations tell women they should be. We should be dutiful, pleasing, and compliant. That is what we’re taught through hundreds of little, subtle messages in school, in church, from our parents, through media…everywhere. Is it changing? Yes, I think so…but it’s gradual, and it’s not changing at a fast enough pace. 

At age 23 we are still children. Our brains don’t stop developing until we are 25. We shouldn’t be getting married, and we shouldn’t be making life-altering decisions. We should be getting an education, making mistakes, experimenting, sewing our wild oats (in age-appropriate situations), and falling on our faces. We should not be married and having affairs. We should be teaching our daughters that they never ever have to give their body to anybody if they don’t want to, regardless of the situation they ignorantly or unwittingly get themselves into. We should be teaching our daughters to value their body, their voice, and their purpose in life. I do not think men understand that society does not innately teach these lessons to us. We get opposite and sometimes very contradictory messaging as we are growing up and coming into our own. I do my best to make my own daughter aware of it, but I know that even I could do better because we also do not want to rob our kids of their innocence too soon. I write all of this because it isn’t discussed enough…even in light of the “Me Too” movement. It isn’t just about rape, sexual assault, and harassment. It isn’t just about preventing attacks or manipulation from male predators. This is about how women are valued in society and, more importantly, how women are taught (or not taught) to value themselves within this society. 

This brings me back to “shame.” I carried the shame of my choice for years and years, the shame of giving up my body when I didn’t want to and allowing someone to use me because  I wasn’t strong enough to speak my truth or deal with the consequences of my actions. I haven’t told anybody except for one friend years later whom I trusted. Now I understand that I was so young and naive, and I didn’t know then (because nobody taught me) that I could say “no,” that I didn’t have to do something out of expectation. That is one reason (of many) that I always speak my truth up front. I will always tell you where you stand with me because people can’t read our minds, and my voice is the most important possession that I have. I must use it. It is my responsibility to myself. To be clear, I am not speaking to or about those women (and men) who have experienced trauma of a different sort, where they didn’t have a choice…where they were attacked or violated against their will. Those survivors can and should take all the time they need to speak their own truth. Trauma of this magnitude requires it. But what I am talking about is becoming aware of and creating a culture where women inherently understand their worth and feel in their soul that their voices matter and are being heard. We still have some work to do on that front. And, to be honest, it starts with men. Until men get on board as our allies, nothing will change. As women we can keep pushing for change and respect, and we will eventually get there, but we need men on our side, listening to our stories, and valuing what we have to say. We need feminism for this reason, and we need men to be feminists alongside us.