This whole #MeToo thing has me totally disturbed. Not because it’s clear how many people have been sexually harassed or abused but because, when I read their stories, they don’t sound that bad. Fondled at work? Join the club. A guy flashed you? I think I’d giggle at the awkwardness. An uncle put his arms around you in a way that made you uncomfortable? I doubt you’ll need therapy for that.
It’s made me realise just how used to these stories I’ve become.
We listen to a news story and we lose interest after hearing that five people were killed in a terrorist attack because, last month, it was 130. We breathe a sigh of relief when we hear that a little girl was kidnapped and raped before being reunited with her family because at least she wasn’t killed as well. Donald Trump said something sexist? Meh, what’s new?
What is happening to us?
I know, I know. It’s all about media and exposure and dulling our sensitivities so that we don’t go totally nuts in a world gone mad. People poo-poo it, saying things like, “boys will be boys”, or “what do you expect, you’re a pretty girl and he’s a hot-blooded guy.” They laugh or minimise or ignore.
But, this is the whole point of #MeToo. It’s becoming our new normal to be hurt and damaged. And we can’t let it.
Because, if it’s our normal, we have to be ok with it happening to our own little girls.
And, until the day that we are, we have to fight, speak, resist and rebel against anyone that tells us that this behaviour is anything less than abhorrent.