You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?

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This post is a little different, though.

I’ve experienced situations with harassment and sexual advances that were totally unwarranted. Unwelcome and icky. Both occurred in high school.

The first was during PE, in a rowdy class of 10th & 11th graders. It began with leering looks from a boy no bigger than me, but determined. So determined. I avoided him when possible, because he was rough and lewd and all hands.

I’m thankful it ended before things grew worse.

The second situation occurred at my first official place of employment–Burger King, back in the day when Lion King toys stuffed the kids’ meals and customers paying via credit card was impossible.

(Wow, I’m dating myself terribly.)

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Anyway, a young man joined the crew a few months after I did. His verbal teasing and overlong looks turned quickly into a poke here, a grab there. Leering and innuendos that made me nauseous.

We’ll call him Joe.

*Good time to note I also met my future husband at Burger King.*

Joe enjoyed hiding in the walk-in cooler or behind corners then jumping out, scaring me. A couple of times, his hands were involved and his leering increased to uncomfortable levels.

I mentioned it to Trevor.

While washing trays in the huge silver sinks one day, water suddenly soaked my leg. A tight vise gripped my calf. I jumped back, nearly tripping, recognizing my tormentor below the sink, wielding one of the faucet handles (they stretched really far), spraying my uniform pants and grinning lecherously.

I’m sure I shouted something, because I’m not quiet and one of my pant legs was soaked.

I was ticked.

Trevor appeared, my knight-in-shining Burger King uniform.

I can still picture it as clear as it happened twenty-three years ago. Calm, steady Trevor reached down, dragged Joe to standing then held him out, his hand wrapped around Joe’s throat. He didn’t let go of his throat as Joe wiggled, jerking around like a rag doll, punching Trev in the face a couple of times to get him to let loose.

I don’t remember what was said or how long until the manager broke it up, but I’ll never forget the wild-eyed look of shock on Joe’s face when Trev finally dropped him.

He never bothered me again, and I’m so thankful I was a “me, too… but then.” ❤

Parents–let’s raise our boys (and girls) to honor and love the Lord and respect others. To be the “but then” makers in their lives. This starts in our own hearts and homes.

Because each person is Hand-Made and precious.

Meanwhile, there are so many women with far worse situations than I experienced. Jobs threatened or lost. Memories they wish could be erased and devious, hurtful actions that changed the course of their life. Broken hearts from betrayal of the worst kind.

I hope you know that God loves you and He can heal your hidden wounds.

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“The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; For You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You.”

(Ps. 9: & 10)