It’s Not Easy Being Curvy : Tales of Unwarranted Sexual Advances and the Struggle with Silence

This weekend was super busy. I popped down to Philadelphia to speak on a panel called Millenial Moguls, then delivered a keynote in Washington D.C.
For my first engagement, I wore a skirt by Muehleder and a bodysuit from Rue 107. My top had a scoop neck, but it wasn’t extraordinarily revealing (in my opinion!). As I lay on my couch, reflecting on the events before me, I hopped on Snapchat for a brief confessional. I was laying on my back with the phone up in the air. You could see some cleave, but again, nothing crazy! After my heart to heart with thousands of followers, I got a chat from someone who said I was ‘Thirst Trapping.’ I replied, “I’m just laying down.” Apparently me laying down in a scoop neck was tew much.

After blocking this judgmental commenter (I don’t play that sh*t on my personal pages, sorry), I went on to do my duties, pretty much without incident. On my way to Philly, a kind young man said I was beautiful, and I told him he was beautiful too! But I was generally able to be in business mode and focus on the tasks at hand without feeling judged or objectified. Until my trip back to NYC.

I hopped into a cab at Penn Station on Sunday, and I had changed into a high neck dress that was slightly form fitting but not egregiously tight (I wore it below as I posed with Debra from the Shade Room and my homegirl Nadia aka @Newscaster).

I also had a blazer on and flats. No matter. By the time we crossed the bridge, my Algerian cab driver had asked to come live with me, asked to be my boyfriend, asked if I played sports because of ‘my body,’ asked if he could pull over and grab a coffee with me, asked if he could come inside my house, and finally unloaded my luggage so, he said, he could, “See my body.” I’m a nice person so I was initially talking to him, but when he kept asking to pull over to get coffee, I got quiet and just repeated “No, no, please just take me home.” His harassment was obscene and uncomfortable.

I had just gotten done selling books and giving speeches. I was minding my business and was honestly exhausted. But apparently there’s nothing I can wear that will save me from accusations of being a thirst bucket OR somehow open to unsolicited advances.

Part of me felt like I should let this cab driver slide. He’s not from here. He told me how he has lots of roommates, so I figured he needs his job. Somehow I felt sympathy for the aggressor, and shrugged it off to the point where I thought I shouldn’t report him (or maybe I shouldn’t even write about this). But No. I’m writing a report. No other woman should have to go through what I did last night. Men have to learn that this it is not ok to call women names or harass them, regardless of what they choose to wear or how GOD made them. Basic human respect. Is that too much to ask?
Love & Light,