No, it's not okay to brush past me close enough to rub yourself against me, or to briefly touch my chest or butt. It's not ok to reach past me to point something out, just close enough that your hand touches my hair or to pass me an item and allow your hand to touch my own and linger there. It invades my personal space, makes my skin crawl and causes me to feel so uncomfortable that I don't want to come back to work.
Your inappropriate comments about how I look, just within my earshot, don't make me feel beautiful or attractive; they're not compliments, but barbs jabbing into me painfully, sapping my confidence, undermining my professionalism and feeling of value.
I'm not your pretty little flower, your sweetheart, honey or princess; Those terms are not yours to utter to me, they have no meaning coming from you other than to demean me, make it awkward to be in the room with you and make me feel out of place and unwelcome in the workplace.
I'd not liketo join you at Friday night drinks, and no, it won't relax me. Spending a moment longer with you outside of work hours might just make me sick to my stomach and, besides, if I went my man would come too; and I think you'd not like to meet him - It wouldn't go well for you.
I hate having to eat my lunch at my desk, but I'd rather do so than share the kitchenette with you or risk heading to the mall and seeing you there. And no, you don't need to bring me treats each day, it makes me feel like you're grooming me and that's a disgusting thought.
You have no right discussing my chest size, how nice my legs look or how nice my butt moves within my skirt. When I hear the whispers, it makes me want to scrub my makeup off, pull a grain sack over my body and look as ugly as I can; I want to shrink inside of myself, to disappear. It's not okay that you make me feel that way and I deserve better.
Looking over my shoulder as I exit the building into the car park makes me feel weak, fragile and scared. I shouldn't have to, but after that day you followed me and cornered me there, I do it. Making sure I exit with others is a constant struggle and I get anxious around the end of the day because of it.
Those flowers you anonymously sent on Valentine's day, then made sure I knew about a day later, were left in the kitchenette, unloved and unappreciated. It wasn't a charming gesture, you're not a gentleman; you're not even a real man.
Suggesting I leave my man home instead of bringing him to the Christmas party was senseless, inconsiderate and typically you. You're a filthy, insignificant little worm of a person and one day the ramifications from the way you prey on women will fall upon you like Thor's hammer, and my man may be the one wielding it.
All of these scenarios have happened to me in one way or the other in the workplace and they have served to make me feel uncomfortable, disrespected and in need of a hot shower to wash away the grimy feeling of the unwanted, unsolicited attention. I don't believe, because I'm a woman, that I command respect and correct treatment, but I believe, as a human being, a person should afford it to me, as a fellow human being.
Gender doesn't define human beings, the person does, and if that person treats a woman in the workplace as above then the definition of that individual is, or should be, not favourable. I don't expect special treatment in the workplace as a woman, but I expect to be treated equally and with the same degree of respect others receive no matter how I look.
Becca 💗