Have you seen the “me too” posts that have appeared all over Facebook in the last 24 hours?

The posts started thanks to this tweet from Alyssa Milano.

If you’ve been sexually harassed or assaulted write ‘me too’ as a reply to this tweet. pic.twitter.com/k2oeCiUf9n

— Alyssa Milano (@Alyssa_Milano) October 15, 2017

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I initially hesitated posting “me too,” but then I realized that was part of the problem. As women, we’ve been conditioned to internalize the sexual harassment, catcalling, inappropriate touching, assault, and rape we’ve endured over the years. Somehow it’s our fault or what happened to us isn’t really that bad, as if either of those “reasons” are legitimate or reasons to stay quiet.

At last count, more than 80 of my girlfriends and a few of my guy friends have posted “me too” and shared their stories of harassment and assault. That’s more 20% of my female Facebook friends. And that’s just the friends who have chosen to share their stories.

What upsets me about the “me too” posts is that these women are Gen Xers and Millennials and we’re mostly being harassed and assaulted by our peers. My own experience bears this out.

I was 7 the first time it happened to me. I told a boy he couldn’t kiss me on the playground and he chased me until he knocked me down into a snow/ice bank and knocked out my two front teeth. He liked me, grown-ups said as I spent the afternoon in the principal’s office with blood gushing from my mouth waiting for my mom to pick me up, and that’s what boys do. In eighth grade, that same boy stalked me.

I was 9 when boys began to snap my bra (I had committed the sin of developing early) and attempting to pull my bathing suit top down at the pool. Boys will be boys, I was told.

I was 11 when a boy tried to stick his foot between my legs under the table during science class. He would also corner me in the band room after school when I’d pick up my flute. I became scared of him and kept my flute in my hall locker so I wouldn’t be caught alone in the band room. I kept quiet because I’d long since learned there would be no punishment for his gross behavior. He’s now a minister.

I was 13 when a grown man catcalled and made sexually suggestive comments to me while my brother and I were on vacation with my dad. I told my dad and my dad let him have it. After that week was over, I never saw the man again.

I was 20 when a man assaulted me. I didn’t tell anyone for many years. The reasons were complicated, but included that I’d been drinking and didn’t think anyone would believe me. He later called and asked me out on a date. I hung up.

I’ve lost count of all the times since then I’ve been sexually harassed or catcalled. I don’t usually tell anyone. What’s the point? Complaining about it will only get me labeled as difficult and a troublemaker, but won’t have negative consequences for the harasser.

Once in awhile I’ll call out the offender for his grotesque behavior and he will inevitably tell me I’m being too sensitive, that he’s just joking, or he wouldn’t want to fuck me anyway. Huh.

I don’t know when we’ll get to a place where harassment and assault aren’t the norm, but I hope that we’ll start taking women seriously when they have the courage to speak up for themselves.

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