We women have a million MeToo moments from the time we are born but I’ll happily share one of mine which will head posting elsewhere to inspire any and all.
When I started high school, my school had 7th graders walking around with 18 year old seniors and they may very well be where my love for older men stems from, and Elvis of course. At that particular time in life I knew nothing about jocks with an ego not to be superseded. Lucky me I fell for one of those jocks. While my young mind dreamt of kissing him, roller skating together, and playing with his dark curls he proved his point it was never about getting to know me, or caring about my curls, not on my head anyway.
As I dated this boy I knew he was losing his patience since he was older, and no time to waste, I found myself one night in the backseat of a car in the woods and seeing a boy naked for the first time. I remember thinking it was what I imagined with finding my older brothers ‘exotic’ magazines, but in my 13 year old severely crushed valley girl brain he looked utterly adorable while I said “I’m not doing this”, my moms words of instruction to not getting pregnant scared the living hell out of me and even my biggest crush couldn’t sway my opinion. I didn’t want to find out the difficult, unappealing way to what my mom described as teenage pregnancy. It wasn’t worth it to me. Discovering early in life when you love a person more than yourself you will subconsciously do what they would want you to do. As my crush gaslighted me in anger screaming “tomorrow’s the game!” I sat quietly as he pondered on leaving me in the woods, I assured him I had no problem walking home. Exuding bitter attempt for pity to which no woman would change her mind for and as if it was my fault he was stripped nude while I was dressed, that was one guilt trip that didn’t work. Even though I made the mistake of giving an apology on the ride home. I will never forget how I never offered sex, I never promised sex, but I apologized.
The Monday after that date I walked into school with a huge smear campaign going on about stuff I never even took part in and to this day, 38 years later, if I run into that strong and secure former jock he will ask if I’m still a lesbian. As I look at his aged face when he’s saying it I simply think what every woman thinks when seeing a former flame. Nothing. It felt empty to see him. That boy was the virgin time from my past. I guess it’s moving that I affected him to such a degree he decided to punish til death regardless of age anyone who doesn’t sleep with him. I was raised open minded and others sexuality is none of my business however while my infamous crush is on his third marriage, I’ve been happily married for 34 years.
So if a guy is so narcissistically wounded he can’t help himself but refer to you as gay and it makes him feel better to say it, no reaction is the best reaction. Your reaction makes the sick, happy. I find that one of most unsound things I’ve learned in psychology. Their wounds run deeper than the ones that would go on in any back seat.
Obviously that’s the whole point to aging and wisdom. When I envision someone trying that now I would without a doubt shove him in his trunk, head first. Pun intended.