#MeToo , PartTwo
2/1/21

i'm not allowed to post a tweet if my hands are shaking in rage.
It’s my only Twitter rule. And it’s a good one. But I broke it a few days ago. I was scrolling through my social feeds and one of my #MeToos showed up. (thread)

And I had a visceral response. I started shaking, the hair on the back of my neck prickled up, I could hear my heart beating in my head faster and faster, my throat started closing, and my stomach felt clenched and terrified, like right before something awful happens.

Because the triggery part wasn’t seeing his smirky face. It was reading he’s now “a primary counselor at a bay area treatment center.” That made my blood run cold.
Reacting this way surprised me, because I had dealt with it in several ways,in the 20ish years since it happened.

I thought I was past it. But as a friend said, “It comes back, so make sure to take care of you.” And she was right.
Writing about my #MeToo and sharing it with people I trusted, were two healthy ways to deal.

The following post is one I shared with a group of adwomen I trust three years ago when #TaranaBurke’s #MeToo movement restarted. It explains why the idea of this sexual predator being in a position of power and counseling vulnerable women made me physically ill, and...

and why I’m willing to tell one of my #MeToo stories. Again. (Original post written December 7, 2017)
In the late1990s, when I was a stewardess trying to be a copywriter, I helped produce the Chicago Addy Awards, which recognized the best advertising produced in the city.

My job was to organize thousands of entries. It was like my own personal cache of who was making the best work in my own town. I kept a pile of my favorites and my boss called it The Meggys.

1996-97 were the Altoids years. The iconic Curiously Strong Mint campaign was everywhere (including taped on the wall where I worked on my book) and won everything, including a mess of Addys. Steffan Postaer, who created it with his partner, was a star at Leo Burnett,

the biggest advertising agency in the world at the time. At the awards ceremony, I helped present all those awards to Steffan and met him later in the evening.

We talked about his Altoids work, the book he was writing, how he lived near my parents, and that he and his wife were about to have their first baby. Probably a 20-minute conversation as boring as it sounds. Then we both moved on, I was still working the event.

At the end of the night, we left at the same time and he offered to share a ride and drop me off at my place. I’m sure I said something like, Cool, thanks! We got in a cab and it seemed like something changed the second the doors shut.

He acted completely different than earlier when we’d chatted at the party. He was giggly and his voice had a higher pitch and he seemed agitated. He started poking me in my side. The poking turned into tickling and the tickling turned into grabbing my waist and stomach...

and groping my thighs and breasts. I remember literally slapping his hands away, and it felt like he had a dozen hands like a fucking cartoon skunk.

I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the cab driver’s eyes look away. When we stopped at a light, I jumped out of my side and ran down the street into a 7-11. I don’t think I even shut the cab door. I know I didn’t look back.

And that was it.
I wasn’t physically hurt. It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s not even the worst sexual assault that’s ever happened to me. But it was the first time it happened to me in advertising. And at the time, I wasn’t even in advertising yet.

When I was treated badly as a stewardess, I remember thinking They just see me as someone who serves them drinks & cleans up their shit. When they’re paying me to think of ideas it’ll be different. I stayed in the convenience store waiting to stop shaking...

before going to the street to get another cab, embarrassed at how naïve I still was. I don’t remember talking about it too much at the time, other than rolling my eyes or saying I-hate-that-guy if his name came up.

I told a few friends, but who else should I have told? Who would have cared? He was Mr. Altoid with a famous ad-family. I was a stewardess with a box of laminated print spec trying to break in. He won the Kelly Award. Remember that? The prize was $100,000.

So, I focused on my book and the people who supported and helped me. And there were lots. Men who never scared me, or threatened me, or gave off that vague icky vibe. Guys whose names were on the building, men who were ad-famous, and guys at my level.

Men who never made me feel like sexual harassment was the price of entry if I wanted to try to be in advertising. So, why am I talking about it now? Because sexual harassment still happens every day in advertising.

Because so many of you told me your own awful stories. Because sometimes it’s much subtler, and sometimes it’s more overt, and sometimes it’s much more violent, but it’s all damaging and none of it is OK. Because the ones who are doing it are being protected and promoted.

Because Steffan’s still in advertising still using his power to influence young ad women, and I know how shitty I’ll feel when I find out he did this and worse to others. Women who couldn’t just run away. Because even though intellectually I know I did absolutely nothing wrong,

somehow I’m still shame-cringing just typing this. Because saying nothing hasn’t worked at all. And because it will never stop until someone listens when we tell our stories and there are consequences. For them.

Am I scared? I’m terrified. We’ve all seen what happens to women who come forward. What if nobody believes me? I'm afriad they’ll stay things like; I just want attention, or I’m doing it for a pity-hire, or they’ll look at 51-year old MCM and think Sure SHE got sexually harassed.

I’m scared they’ll say I heard she was a skank back in the day, or Big deal she got felt up, she’s going to ruin his life for that? Or Why’d she get in the cab with him in the first place? But mostly I’m scared I’ll never get hired again advertising. But it’s time. #MeToo