Every time that I see "Me, too" from a friend on a Facebook feed, I feel increasingly uncomfortable. It's not about the experiences behind the phrase. It's about the movement itself -- the vagueness, the lack of concrete objectives, and the sense that, yet again, society has found another quiet way to separate the "pretty" from the "plain." Yes, I know that any woman can be subjected to sexual harassment, regardless of how others perceive her looks. And, while I have legitimate reason to join in, I refuse to participate. As a fat woman, what would my voice mean in that "Me, too" chorus? Would I be an outlier, one of the improbable victims who demonstrate that anyone, even fat people , can be groped or assaulted?
I can't help wondering why women feel compelled to participate. Yes, I know the prepared answer -- so that we can know how pervasive the problem is. (THEN what?) Here's my awkward thought: Is it also a veiled way to post one's badge of "desirability"? Okay, I put it out there. We're essentially primates, after all. I'm asking myself these politically incorrect questions as I ponder the response to Mayim Bialik's NYT op-ed. Her perspective struck a chord, and it saddens me to see how she's been vilified for stating her truth. What are your feelings about the "Me, too" movement?
I can't help wondering why women feel compelled to participate. Yes, I know the prepared answer -- so that we can know how pervasive the problem is. (THEN what?) Here's my awkward thought: Is it also a veiled way to post one's badge of "desirability"? Okay, I put it out there. We're essentially primates, after all. I'm asking myself these politically incorrect questions as I ponder the response to Mayim Bialik's NYT op-ed. Her perspective struck a chord, and it saddens me to see how she's been vilified for stating her truth. What are your feelings about the "Me, too" movement?