What do you say to a sexual harasser? How do you make it stop? Why is this happening to me now?
I feel like an old woman, in the last stages of my life. I'll be a grandmother soon. Don't know if it was my looks or my personality, but I never had to deal with this before. Oh, maybe once or twice, but I didn't really understand what was happening at the time, and the time passed.
It's a neighbor. I've had enough. It shocked me when he started, the little remarks. ha ha. As if. What would your wife say? She doesn't have to know. Immediately, totally, irrevocably unwanted.
He's 80, I would guess. Has a hearing aid, a pacemaker, and a tiny old wife. They live directly across the street from me. I thought they were so sweet, when I moved in 3 1/2 years ago, and gave them my house keys. I wanted someone to have my keys. Just in case. Just in case, what? I don't know. Just in case.
He knew things about houses. I didn't. "Put down your storm windows," he told me in the fall, "Take the canopy off the deck." Once he came to fix a faulty switch. He snowblows my driveway sometimes, even though I pay a plow guy and enjoy clearing snow. My mailbox is beside theirs, across the street.
I hate confrontation. Would way rather run, deny, or move to Tanzania.
But he keeps saying lewd, vulgar, skanky, disgusting things to me. Is it his culture, his time? Does he think he's suave and charming? Do I somehow invite his attentions as I shovel snow in my enormous snowpants, puffy coat, hat, boots, and gloves? Is it a power thing?
Who knows, who cares. I've had enough. Talk in the driveway wasn't enough: today he came to my door. I didn't let him in, of course.
Later I went out and purchased another lock for my door, a chain lock. I looked at pepper spray online. I considered a restraining order. I thought about writing him a letter, speaking to his children, getting a baseball bat or gun, or adopting an attack dog. I wailed to a friend.
People are kind of strange right now. Lots of shifting. I keep learning new things, and new ways of taking care of myself. I spend time with people who nourish me, and lock out those who don't.
I feel like an old woman, in the last stages of my life. I'll be a grandmother soon. Don't know if it was my looks or my personality, but I never had to deal with this before. Oh, maybe once or twice, but I didn't really understand what was happening at the time, and the time passed.
It's a neighbor. I've had enough. It shocked me when he started, the little remarks. ha ha. As if. What would your wife say? She doesn't have to know. Immediately, totally, irrevocably unwanted.
He's 80, I would guess. Has a hearing aid, a pacemaker, and a tiny old wife. They live directly across the street from me. I thought they were so sweet, when I moved in 3 1/2 years ago, and gave them my house keys. I wanted someone to have my keys. Just in case. Just in case, what? I don't know. Just in case.
He knew things about houses. I didn't. "Put down your storm windows," he told me in the fall, "Take the canopy off the deck." Once he came to fix a faulty switch. He snowblows my driveway sometimes, even though I pay a plow guy and enjoy clearing snow. My mailbox is beside theirs, across the street.
I hate confrontation. Would way rather run, deny, or move to Tanzania.
But he keeps saying lewd, vulgar, skanky, disgusting things to me. Is it his culture, his time? Does he think he's suave and charming? Do I somehow invite his attentions as I shovel snow in my enormous snowpants, puffy coat, hat, boots, and gloves? Is it a power thing?
Who knows, who cares. I've had enough. Talk in the driveway wasn't enough: today he came to my door. I didn't let him in, of course.
Later I went out and purchased another lock for my door, a chain lock. I looked at pepper spray online. I considered a restraining order. I thought about writing him a letter, speaking to his children, getting a baseball bat or gun, or adopting an attack dog. I wailed to a friend.
People are kind of strange right now. Lots of shifting. I keep learning new things, and new ways of taking care of myself. I spend time with people who nourish me, and lock out those who don't.
