When the #MeToo movement initially surfaced, it put so much into perspective for us all. It really forced us, as a society, to reflect on and discuss the ills of sexual harassment, abuse, and violation that permeates and plagues our culture. As an educator, I deliberately used the #MeToo movement as an opportunity to engage in discourse with my college students about rape, consent, and harassment. Because of so many accounts of egregious behavior against women were at the forefront of my timelines, news clips and spirit, I prayed for all women who have been violated in some form or fashion. In that prayer, I remember saying: “Thank God, I have never had an experience like that.” Then a flood of “small” problematic encounters with men, that I myself have dismissed, began re-surfacing.

I have fought against hypertension and anxiety most of my adult life, so the process of getting an EKG has become a familiar practice to me. But in my early twenties, before this whole hypertension/anxiety thing became my new- normal, I laid nervously across the exam table, as a middle-aged man placed the electrodes over my bare chest. He, very strategically, left my hospital gown wide open as he conducted this test that felt like it took longer than it should. I remember feeling extremely uncomfortable and unsettled, but assumed that this was what the process must look and feel like. There was something innately dis-empowering about my laying on that cold exam table, unaware of what the proper protocols were, with this man hovering over me.

With my gown left to expose my entire upper body, he made comments about my athletic figure. “Wow, you must definitely work out,” he suggested with a tainted smile. Uneasy, I replied, “yes.” After that appointment, I shared that ordeal with one of my girlfriends, who happens to be in the medical field. For one reason or the other, I was not sure of myself and questioned if that encounter had been (in)appropriate. Immediately, she curtailed my doubts and assured me that it was.

Years later, I was getting another EKG done at the very same medical center– this time, with a different male medical personnel. Throughout the entire process, he repeatedly asked me if I was comfortable and I was. My hospital robe was tactfully positioned in a way that left my breasts concealed. It was not until that EKG, that I realized, without a doubt, that I was indeed violated that first time. Until I was handled with care, dignity, and respect, I could not fully comprehend what had transpired before.

I appreciate, admire, and validate the courage that so many women (and men) exemplify when they come forward with their #MeToo experiences. My heart also goes out to the women whose stories and trauma go untold, for a variety of reasons. Rape culture indoctrinates us to invalidate not only others’ experiences but even our own, many times. Most of us, if we think hard and long enough, sadly, can recount inappropriate moments like the one above. I am aware and fortunate that my experience(s) were not grave, violent, or life-altering yet I understand now that no form of sexual harassment is too small or unimportant to be checked immediately.