My own contribution to rape culture

“Short Skirts, Scrapes & Secretive Scars,” was my first post on this blog. I originally wrote it on LinkedIn, two years ago, after Brock Turner’s light slap on the hand for being convicted on three counts of felony sexual assault.

Now, two years later, how far have we come? As a society, we are shaming and blaming the victims of sexual assault.

I am sitting here fully aware of my own contribution to rape culture. When I was younger, I thought I’d asked for it by the clothes I wore, my outgoing, flirtatious personality, the fact that I was a dancer, etc. 

I undervalued myself. I under valued you, but didn’t even know I was doing it. I know it now and now is what matters.

Enough victim blaming and shaming. Enough. #MeToo

Continue reading “My own contribution to rape culture”

Labor Day & the Workaholic

DISCAIMER: This is a long ass post. I sure hope it’s worth the read. Writer (me), cannot be held responsible for winces, sighs, eye rolls or chocolate eating while reading said long ass post, unless reader (you), shares chocolate with writer (me.)

I can’t be 100% certain, but I don’t think I’ve actually written much, if anything, about my propensity toward workaholism. I am already loving the delicacy (slight touch o’bullshit) of this post, as I just mentioned having a “propensity” toward workaholism. Historically, it’s been far more than a propensity, slight leaning or minor tendency. It has been a…headfirst into any brick wall, full-speed ahead, balls out, whole mind, body and spirit, life-sucking activity. Continue reading “Labor Day & the Workaholic”

Short Skirts, Scrapes, & Secretive Scars

I was young, ambitious and was sure it was all my fault.

In the early 90’s, I was an overbooked public speaker, spokesperson, trainer, speech writer and producer for a slew of Fortune 500 companies. Looking back on that vibrant and successful career, I often shake my head that I didn’t have full appreciation for how much I got paid to see the most beautiful places in the world.

Instead, I felt sort of lost, feeling like I wasn’t doing anything that really mattered in this world.

In those days, I wore a lot of skirts. Some of the skirts were short. Sometimes, the skirts were short and made of leather. Once, I worked for a well known Japanese firm, and was provided with a fire engine red bustier, a tiny lace skirt and 4″ stiletto heels.  Continue reading “Short Skirts, Scrapes, & Secretive Scars”