Monday 24 September 2018

Going Public


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?
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.

No comments: