Pulling a Pig

So I shared this article yesterday, but I realized that this really bothered me. And when I mean really bothered me, the event I am about to relate happened over 14 years ago. I should be over it right? It was just something someone said to me. It wasn’t the first time I have been bullied or picked on for not fitting society’s standard of how a woman should look or act, and it wouldn’t be the last. But this particular encounter left me shaken to my core, and haunts me to some level until this very day. When I read this article, written by Stephanie Yeboah about her own painful experience, I was sitting waiting for an appointment. I broke down crying. Memories of that night came flooding back. I knew I had to share her article. I have included a link below:

https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/pull-a-pig-dating-pranks

The incident from long ago played on repeat in my head, keeping me awake last night. It had been something I had had shoved to the recesses of my mind, along with all of the other insults and snubs about the way I do and do not look. But reading Ms. Yeaboah’s experience, and the kind words I have gotten from friends after sharing her article, I decided to go ahead and relate what I went through, and why it bothers me so much to this day.

My apartment during college was in Seattle’s wonderful Capitol Hill Neighborhood. One of the things I enjoyed the most was the ability to walk from my apartment just a few blocks and go to any number of affordable restaurants, bars and shops. I had a favorite bar I would go to most nights since it was only a block and a half from my apartment. I would often bring a book or even my homework and get a beer and just enjoy the small, popular neighborhood pub.

One night, as I sat at a booth in the back, reading a book, a guy started to chat me up. Now this small dive had a group of definite regulars, but I had never seen this guy here before. This took me completely by surprise. If you follow me much or know me very well, I make mention often that guys don’t tend to notice me. I’d like to think that I’m not ugly per se, just incredibly average. But it was incredibly flattering to have someone (for once) notice me sitting alone and ask about what I was reading (It was my electromagnetics homework, exciting, literally. Do I know how to party or what?). He talked me up as if he was actually interested in me.

He sat down and offered to buy me a drink. I had already had a few, and I had class then next day. I declined. This seemed to irritate him. He kept pressing me to have another drink. I thanked him politely again but declined, growing more and more uneasy with his attention. Something seemed off. He became even more agitated. He continued to talk to me though. He finally invited me to leave the bar with him, stating that his place wasn’t far away. Feeling red flags popping up like daisies, I thanked him again but said I had class the next day, and I wasn’t interested.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say (in his mind). He stood over my table, balling up his fists, sputtering.

“Go home and study? You can’t be serious,” he said, slurring his words as he slurped his beer.

“No really. I have to get this done,” I said, tapping my pencil to my book.

“You can do that later, you should come home with me instead tonight, it’ll be a lot more fun than this crap.”

“No thank you,” I replied, putting up my hand. Inside, my heart was hammering. The bar was crowded. While he was making a commotion, no one was really paying attention, other than his group of friends standing near the pool tables watching and laughing. It dawned on me that they had put him up to this somehow. It was some sort of joke.

“What do you mean? You can’t turn me down,” he growled. The hair on the back of my neck stood up at his words.

“Thanks, but I’m really not interested. I have work to do.” I pointed to my book and notebook.

He flipped my book shut and leaned closer. “An ugly b—h like you should be grateful that a guy would even talk to you. Let alone take you home. I bet you go home and f–k your books.”

His words cut to the quick, but his body language and his demeanor made the bile rise in my throat. One part of me wanted to lash back, say something just as cruel and vicious. Many epic comebacks were whirling in my head. Fortunately, common sense prevailed. I refrained from saying anything, and managed to not cry while his d-bag friends dragged him out of the bar. He continued to slur obscenities about how ugly and unworthy I was as he stormed out with his buddies.

I sat at the table for a while, stunned. I waited long enough to be sure that they were gone before I shoved my books into my backpack and beelined it back to my building. I didn’t want to be caught alone on the street by him and his friends. Once home, I broke down and cried. I don’t consider myself a coward, but I was afraid to go back to my favorite dive bar for a long time.

As I mentioned before, this wasn’t the first time I had been bullied or snubbed for my looks or lack thereof, and it wouldn’t be my last. But this encounter left me shaken to my core.

I had never told my husband about it, and really, I tried not to think about it after that day. I just took it as a bad experience with a jerk and moved on. But after yesterday I told Ray about it and we had a long, interesting conversation. This scenario plays an integral part in encounters I have had, not just about my appearance, but my role as a woman in engineering and technical roles.

The man at the bar didn’t see me as a woman or even a person. He saw me as merely an object. Something to be used and discarded with no feeling. Something far inferior to himself. When I had the audacity to reject his advances, he couldn’t believe that this thing, this creature thought itself to be too good for a guy like him. It should be a given. I mean, in his mind and world, he’s entitled to far more beautiful women than I. Women’s bodies are at his disposal. I’m just a joke, a bet he’s out to win on a random weeknight with his friends. How dare such a lowly creature not only reject him, but humiliate him in front of his peers?

I have seen this same rage and frustration as I have advanced both in the Navy and as an engineer. While many men I have worked with have been fabulous peers, mentors and advocates, there are those who see my presence as a threat. There are some men who still see women as far inferior to themselves in every way. When a woman like me shows up in the workplace, they do everything they can to derail her career. It can be subtle, just minor disrespect on the jobsite. Or it can be blatant sabotage, cutting her off from information, spreading lies and rumors, trying to undermine her position.

It can be a tough pill to swallow sometimes. I have relied on my competence and my integrity to carry me through. There have been many times I have gone home and cried into my pillow, because, let’s face it crying at work is perceived as weakness (and I’m a total bawler).

I’m at a great point in my life. I have made a career out of not having to rely on how I look to succeed. I am considered a technical expert at what I do. When I walk into a facility or a jobsite at work, I’m greeted with comments of:

“So glad you’re here”

“We know the problem is going to get solved now”

“Daniella can fix anything”

Believe it or not, that feels infinitely better than being told I’m pretty. It’s something that no one can take away from me. It is not something I was born with, it’s something I earned. My biggest goal and mission in life with my writing, my engineering and my public speaking is to help others to achieve that same feeling, no matter who they are, where they came from, or what they look like.