Men of a Certain Age
The #MeToo campaign has dredged up a lot of memories for me. I'm working on a longer blog post that breaks down how, from early childhood, society molded my views on women and men. What was expected, what was valued, and what wasn't. And how those views informed my decisions to stay silent when men harassed and assaulted me. It's a lot to process. And some of the people I'll write about are still in my life. This is true for many of us. We live among our abusers. We share mutual friends. We see them at parties. We laugh at their jokes. We try to forget what they did, at least as long as they're in our presence. For now, I'm going to share this poem. Long ago, I dated a bartender. I visited him on weekend nights. This is what I endured every. single. night. MEN OF A CERTAIN AGE Men of a certain age always ask your name before telling you how pretty you are. They ask for it again and again, and again. As if your name - t...