When I first started my blog I wanted to be known, sort of, and still be kinda anonymous Marilee is just not an anonymous name, and I was hesitant to use my whole name. And then I've always had a bit of conflict over my married name vs birth name. However, lately, I've wanted to be more visible in the arts and crafts world.
So using my name, I changed my URL. And instead of transporting the whole other blog with all it's time gaps and such, I decided to start fresh.
I was going public in this very small little way. I got to thinking. What if your going public is not some small thing? What if it's a big secret or something difficult? How hard is it to go public?
So using my name, I changed my URL. And instead of transporting the whole other blog with all it's time gaps and such, I decided to start fresh.
I was going public in this very small little way. I got to thinking. What if your going public is not some small thing? What if it's a big secret or something difficult? How hard is it to go public?
I've been thinking about this a lot lately, specially with women coming forward with their #MeToo stories. And as I read these brave women's stories, I know it could have been me.
That's me on the right, my future husband on the left.
I went to college in the late '60s, early 70's and I thought of myself as a fairly typical college student. There were 5 colleges right next to each other in that charming town. Mine was a hippie womens school. The other womens college served tea every afternoon outside their library; a library with a fireplace that actually worked! There was a school with a great theatre dept and lots of cute guys. I hung out with the theatre crowd.
I had adventures.
I hitchhiked halfway across the country with two women friends. When we got home I hitchhiked around Southern California alone. I was really and truly protected. I was not abused or threatened or hurt. One driver did suggest I looked tired and wouldn't I like to go to a motel and get some rest. At the next red light I quickly got out of his truck and walked the opposite way he was driving.
I've been thinking about this somewhat wild college past of mine. I did some things that could have turned out quite badly. Friends and strangers, women and men were often protective, making sure I got home in one piece or had a safe place to sleep. I am very grateful for all this protection. But before college I had more than one #MeToo experience.
I recognize how difficult it can be to talk about. How coming forward is not always treated kindly; sometimes it's almost worse than what happened. I was fortunate. I always thought "something" happened when I was little. I had some disturbing dreams in high school, and in college, I finally got the nerve to talk to my mom about them. Did she know if I could have been molested? She didn't know. I can't remember. But she didn't say I was making things up. She told me about the year I was 4 and suddenly lost a lot of weight (and I wasn't sick). She told me about the day care center I stopped wanting to attend. She took me seriously. It's what we have to do with any woman or man who is coming forward with their stories.
I recognize how difficult it can be to talk about. How coming forward is not always treated kindly; sometimes it's almost worse than what happened. I was fortunate. I always thought "something" happened when I was little. I had some disturbing dreams in high school, and in college, I finally got the nerve to talk to my mom about them. Did she know if I could have been molested? She didn't know. I can't remember. But she didn't say I was making things up. She told me about the year I was 4 and suddenly lost a lot of weight (and I wasn't sick). She told me about the day care center I stopped wanting to attend. She took me seriously. It's what we have to do with any woman or man who is coming forward with their stories.
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