My friend’s boyfriend groped me.
My friend’s boyfriend groped me. He came up to me on the dance floor at a large party, quickly holding my arms down with his so I couldn’t move. He grabbed my hair and my butt, put his hands up my shirt. Two friends standing nearby saw me screaming at him, and each grabbed one of his large arms. They pulled him away.
He did the same to two other women that night.
I felt furious and disgusted the next day. I called him repeatedly, but he didn’t pick up. Eventually I sent him a long message stating that he violated me and that his behavior was unacceptable. Summed up, his responses were “I don’t remember” and “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Several confusing months passed. I cut him out of my life. My close friendship with his partner dissolved; mutual friends remained silent on the matter. I chose not to accept invitations to gatherings he was attending. I drifted apart from the group.
I was preoccupied with the behavior of our mutual friends. Why had no one else reacted when a member of the group violated multiple women on multiple occasions (yes, this had happened before)? I told others what happened. The most common response? “Typical. That’s him.” No one blinked an eye. They had normalized his physical assaults long ago.
During this time, brave survivors publicly accused hundreds of famous men of sexual harassment, assault and rape. #MeToo stories came out everyday. Friends were quick to condemn these violaters. Yet, I was the only one who cut out the violater we all know. I could not (cannot) understand this discrepancy.
These friends, I should note, are generous, kind, intelligent, driven, thoughtful people. The type of people who vote, volunteer, attend the Women’s March, recycle.
So, why the baffling silence? The best reasoning I have is this: Few people are comfortable upsetting the status quo even if that means being complicit.
Let’s think about the ‘what ifs’ of an alternate outcome: What if the person who groped me had been held accountable? What if his closest friends sat him down after learning about it (or witnessing it) and told him that physical assault is entirely unacceptable? What if they demanded he slow his drug and alcohol use? What if they stopped spending time with him until he had taken full responsibility and issued sincere apologies for every incident of inappropriate touch? What if they decided amongst themselves to supervise him at future parties? What if they approached me- even once- and asked me if I was OK?
Change starts at home. Can we truly be disgusted that famous men are accused of multiple offenses when we don’t act to stop misconduct in our own circles?
Recently, something promising happened. One friend, shaken by current events, evaluated her silence after my assault and courageously approached me to say that her mistaken attempt to be neutral had compromised her personal values. And we struck up a thoughtful conversation about damaging silence that has moved me.
People who pretend ill behavior doesn’t happen are the ones who allow it. We collectively set standards for what is tolerated in a community. This is a call to grow out of the damaging habit of using silence to be neutral, avoid conflict and maintain status quo. Yes, it’s severely uncomfortable. Writing a blog post about someone I know violating me, and the lack of community action afterward is deeply uncomfortable. Most necessary change is.
I’m still learning, and am finding new ways to step up and speak up everyday. You?
