They’ve been all over the place the last few days, Facebook statuses that say “Me too.”
I guess it’s a new social media campaign to raise awareness of the omnipresence of sexual assault and harassment – you’re supposed to post “me too” if you’ve been sexually assaulted or harassed.
And of course it’s good for people of all genders, sexes, colors, shapes and sizes to understand that this happens to people of all genders, sexes, colors, shapes and sizes. Of course it’s good to know that this happens to our sisters, brothers, friends, lovers, uncles, teachers, neighbors, mothers. Of course.
And of course it’s brave of the people who post, to share something that may or may not have been a secret, to type those words, to put them out into the ether of the internet, to simultaneously own them and set them free.
But I’ve been feeling a screaming urgency to say: if your kind of brave looks different from that kind of brave, that’s OK too.
Maybe you don’t want to share something so private and painful with the hundreds of Facebook friends who fall across the spectrum from family to stranger; maybe your assaulter is somewhere in that spectrum. Maybe you don’t need to contribute to this campaign for the sake of awareness and solidarity; maybe you’re still finding awareness and solidarity inside yourself. Maybe you have shared the pieces that you want to share with the people you needed to share them with; maybe you’re still working on it; maybe you never will. That’s OK too. Your kind of strength is just as strong.
Those who share are brave. You are brave. Me too.