s e x u a l h a r a s s m e n t


A friend of mine was recently accused of sexually harassing a female coworker.

Ultimately he got fired because of it. He maintains that he’s innocent.

I have no reason not to believe him.

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During the ‘investigation’ stage when he was suspended from work until a conclusion was made, he & I talked over the phone about it. He was obviously angry and disappointed. The accuser was apparently making it all up for her own advancement and her general hatred and bitterness towards men. My friend was convinced that with his seniority and work ethic he’d get his position back. I told him it wouldn’t happen. Even if they had concrete evidence proving his innocence he was a memory to them and a lesson learned now. He argued with me because he was so sure of himself. No Corporation would risk the Civil Rights people and laws (don’t forget the women’s libbers!) on their back and would sweep out any person that stirred the kettle wrong. So they did.

In my opinion, I disagree with women having any management positions in business. Of all the places I’ve worked, the ones I hated were where a woman was a step up from me & a step down (or more) from the CEO/President/Owner. Don’t get me wrong, there are exceptions – but for the most part I feel that women are too emotional, catty, shallow, and bitter and tend to make another womans job performance a personal thing. Men don’t do that. At least not the ones I’ve dealt with.

And this sexual harassment stuff…I miss walking past a construction site & being whistled at. I miss hearing what those dirty construction workers’ want to do to me as a stroll past innocently (hahaha!!!). They should have made a law that the sexual comments made must always be positive ones. Don’t ban it altogether! What if I like to be sexually harassed as I sit at my desk? What if I like knowing my boss is looking down my shirt? What if I like to sexually harass my boss? What if I like knowing that the gorgeous shirtless sweaty carpenter that’s working at the remodel going on next to my favorite deli wants to have his way with me in his work truck? Sheesh! Some gal out there ruined it for the rest of us. Well, for me anyway.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I would never condone ‘real’ sexual harassment – the kind that is just gross and unwanted and negative. But c’mon? What’s wrong with the handsome owner strolling into your office and telling you he’d love to see you masturbating one of these days when he comes in? The both of you have a giggle and he leaves? Why can’t men just see it as an innocent flirt and not push it further? Why can’t women stand up for themselves and stop it before it goes too far? We’re all adults! No?

* Disclaimer: This post was not meant in any way to discount anyone’s personal experiences with sexual harassment. All people are different and this is merely MY opinion. Thank you and have a nice day. 

© Copyright 2007, r e l e n t l e s s

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr


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It frustrates me to no end when my children call while they’re with their Dad and I can hear him in the background on his phone talking with his girlfriend the way he once talked to me.

It’s frustrating when I hear what he talks to them about.

  • Why does he have to discuss our divorce details with our children?
  • Why does he have nothing good to say about me?
  • Why do I continue to defend & protect him when I get just the opposite?
  • Why can’t people just live & let live?

All he’s doing is teaching them to disrespect me. I fear puberty more than anything right now. I remember what I put my parents through. Luckily I have a lot of hair going into those years because I just might emerge with some of it left once the hurricane of 2 teen girls settles.

I hope they learn compassion for others from me. I hope they learn to respect them selves from me. I hope they learn openness and honesty from me. I hope they’re sensitive and sweet and passionate and driven by what makes them truly happy. I hope they see both the good & bad traits their dad & I both possess and listen to their intuition before making decisions.

I feel like it’s a constant battle proving to them that I’m really not the person their Dad portrays me as now that he’s the ‘ex’. They adore their Daddy and they should. I just wish he’d let his bitterness go so that they don’t feel like they have to dislike me for him to like them. I hope they see the big picture. 

f o r g i v e n e s s


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Today is one of those days. Those days where you just don’t care anymore. Where you just want to take one last drive alone down the Pacific Coast highway and launch yourself off a cliff at 150 mph into the end. Yeah, I’m having one of those days.

I just want to listen to sad songs and let the tears flow hard. I want to look at the photos of my bruised face from when he beat me up. I want to run my fingers over the scars that were left when I tried to escape from him while he was doing 40 mph in his El Camino. Or when he was so frustrated with me that all I remember is crying, a bright stinging light and waking up several minutes later on the floor of our trailer under the kitchen table with a busted lip – only to crawl into the bed for rest and have him hold a gun to my head while he told me I could never leave him or he’d kill me. I lied to him the next day and said that I was going to go shopping with my mom so he’d leave. I packed up everything that was mine & loaded it up in my moms car and never went back. I saw him a few days later & he was a wreck. He begged me to come back, I wouldn’t. I can still see his face. I can still feel myself want to get into the car & leave with him. I was 17.

I found him after my husband moved out. He was at an old friend of ours house. He was homeless. He’d been living under a bridge in Sacramento. He makes monthly bus trips back (to see his PO) to our hometown (where I still live) and stays at that friends house. All his back teeth were missing. His clothes were filthy. He was still using. Apparently his little brother (little J) went missing after the two of them had an argument. Three years passed and he was finally found. He’d hung himself from a tree in the Canyon here and had been there for those 3 years. He (big J) ended up losing his job, then his house, then he lost his sole custody of his daughter. Falling prey to the addiction didn’t end when I left him when I was 17 like mine seemed to.

His new life was a stark difference from the way he had grown up. He came from a family that had alot of money. They lived up in the hills, amongst the very upscale private golf course. Just steps from the Country Club. His Dad had a big black Rolls Royce. They traveled all over. Had homes all over. But not a one of them was genuinely happy. Ever.

After we reconnected, we kept in touch over the phone on just about a weekly basis. We talked about old times alot. We sorted out the domestic violence. We buried the hatchet on pretty much every bad memory we each hung onto. He admitted that he still loved me and never stopped loving me and he flat out said he wants me back. I had already sensed that stuff coming. I just knew. I told him he needed to take care of much more important things in his life right now. For one, having a stable place to live sans drugs. He needed a job, a vehicle, to start seeing his daughter, to clear up all his legal stuff. But most important was he needed to quit using. I made sure he knew I wouldn’t end up on his arm even as just a friend if he didn’t snap out of it.

Then he disappeared. I called all over the place looking for him on his birthday. He was just … gone. No one saw him. No one knew where he was.

Then last week…he calls. Eight months he’d been missing. I was relieved that he was safe, but curious as to where the heck he went. He told me that my encouragement & support & nonjudgmental honesty made him stop & look at his life and where he was heading. He said that he decided to get clean & checked himself into a 13 month live-in program and that this had been the longest he’d been clean since we were together 16 years ago. I’m proud of him. I wish everyone had someone that supported them the way I did for him. It feels good to know he’s getting healthy & that maybe he’ll get his life back on the right path. It feels good knowing I changed his life for the positive.

It’s strange how I can forgive & forget. He’s the same person that wanted to kill me at one point. And here I’m helping save his life.

Today is no longer one of those days. I feel pretty good now knowing he’s out there somewhere being productive and healthy and that soon his daughter will have her Daddy back in her life.