I have failed my daughters

I have the most amazing daughters that anyone could hope to have. They are vibrant, beautiful and strong. They are 12 and 10. And I have failed them.

Recently, someone made a gross, sexist comment in an environment that  made it easily  interpreted as “funny” or “the environment.” I was uncomfortable but I didn’t say anything because it would have been “awkward” for everyone else.

So I said nothing. I laughed to make everyone else feel better.

This, in an of itself, wasn’t a big deal.

But what the moment made me remember is the imposition of silence.

When I was a teenager, I was routinely stalked by a fellow teenager.  He followed me in my car. He sat outside my school. He showed up at parties I attended. He showed up anywhere I was. He carved my name into his arms with a knife. He threatened to shoot my parents and kill them. In writing.

And still, I was blamed. I caused it. I provoked it. Some people probably still think that.

In college, I drank too much. Who didn’t, right? One night, I drank too many tequila shots. Apparently tequila doesn’t work well with my chemistry. I passed out outside a Staten Island bar. Luckily someone I knew happened upon me on the sidewalk, while someone I didn’t know attempted to take advantage of my unconscious body.

I was saved.

In my high school years and college years, I worked for a New York City firm and put up with sexual harassment I never complained about. I was cornered by a man I was frightened of at an event and again, I was saved.

As I grew up, I became someone who championed women’s rights. I was a woman with two sisters. I believed in equality. I would scream and yell that.

Then I had two girls.

My daughters are amazing.

Since I had them, things haven’t been great.

A person I was acquainted with at work was reprehensible to me sexually. When I talked to my boss, they told me it wasn’t work related. They told me to resolve it outside of work. Luckily, again, another person I worked for was much more supportive. But still, my silence was encouraged.

And the worst, someone I loved as family, sexually harassed me. It broke me as a person and broke my heart. I still haven’t recovered. And more than any other case, my silence was demanded and encouraged. I shove my fist in my mouth so as not to vomit the truth.

There are many other ways I’m failing my daughters. I deal with shit in the worst way and teach them it is what they deserve.

What happened recently wasn’t a big deal. Any woman deals with this crap.

But they shouldn’t. I’m sick of it. And I’m failing my daughters by not changing this pattern.

I’m failing my daughters. I should save myself, so they learn how to do it. I’m tired of making everyone else feel better.

Even in this post, I’m still silent. I haven’t shared any details. I’m sharing as much as I can.

I hope I can do better for my daughters in the future. They deserve it.