{"id":665,"date":"2018-10-07T10:15:25","date_gmt":"2018-10-07T14:15:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/50.87.248.97\/~frantas1\/?p=665"},"modified":"2018-10-07T08:47:21","modified_gmt":"2018-10-07T12:47:21","slug":"shhhhhhhh","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/?p=665","title":{"rendered":"Shhhhhhhh"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/50.87.248.97\/~frantas1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/10\/IMG_1127.jpg\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-664\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/50.87.248.97\/~frantas1\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/10\/IMG_1127.jpg?resize=180%2C180\" alt=\"\" width=\"180\" height=\"180\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.frantasticfran.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/10\/IMG_1127.jpg?w=180&amp;ssl=1 180w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.frantasticfran.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/10\/IMG_1127.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 180px) 100vw, 180px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Shhhhhh . . .<\/p>\n<p>That&#8217;s the generation in which I grew up. Shhhhh, don&#8217;t say anything. The recent topic in the news as well as #MeToo has caused me to reflect.<\/p>\n<p>When I was a young girl, I loved to swim. I was on a swim team and anytime we could get to the pool I was in. My mom would usually take us and sometimes we would walk. On one occasion, a neighbor offered to take us along with his son and daughter. Cool! Another day at the pool.<\/p>\n<p>We went into the girls locker room and the guys into theirs. We all met outside by the pool. Cindy&#8217;s dad, Dick (little did I know he was one) told us to watch the clock and meet up in a couple of hours.<\/p>\n<p>Cindy went her way and I went mine. My brother was doing his thing and I swam laps. I looked up and realized it was time to meet up with Cindy&#8217;s dad and check-in. I went over to the deeper end of the pool. Dick motioned me over and I went (silly me). He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. Next thing I knew, he was pushing his fingers into my crotch! I was stunned, looked him in the eye, put my feet into his stomach and pushed off and swam over to the other side of the pool. He started coughing and sputtering and trying to catch his breath.<\/p>\n<p>We left soon after. Dick decided it was time to head home. He tried to get me to sit in the front seat next to him but I made my brother sit up there. He liked Cindy anyway so it wasn&#8217;t a total loss. I didn&#8217;t say anything to anyone. Not my mother, my brother, not Cindy, <strong>NO ONE.<\/strong> In addition I didn&#8217;t go inside Cindy&#8217;s house for a long time. In fact, the next time I went inside was to help Jean, his wife after Dick had a stroke and could hardly move. I guess, I thought it was okay, he &#8216;couldn&#8217;t get me.&#8217;<\/p>\n<p>In High School, I was on the girls water polo team. We would practice sometimes with the boys team. You know the saying &#8220;Boys will be Boys&#8221; and, yes, they were. We&#8217;d be swimming, passing the ball, shooting, guarding the assigned player from the other team or visa versa.<\/p>\n<p>Yeah, you guessed it.The guys would grope us under the water. They&#8217;d grab our breasts or try to anyway and other parts that they shouldn&#8217;t. The coaches couldn&#8217;t see what was going on. Every so often, you\u2019d see one of the girls, push off our &#8216;guard&#8217;s&#8217; chest or stomach and give them an angry look.<\/p>\n<p>NONE of us said anything to the coach. We&#8217;d tell each other which guy to be careful of and some of the tougher girls would say, <em>&#8216;I&#8217;ll take him next time.&#8217;<\/em> They&#8217;d give it to the offender the next time we had a scrimmage. Things would calm down for a bit but once in a while, we&#8217;d have to &#8216;remind&#8217; the offenders with a strategically placed kick. We&#8217;d tell the new girls each year how to get away from the guys and which ones to be wary of.<\/p>\n<p>I was an attractive girl when I was younger, nice body, cute face, long blond hair. A typical California girl. One of my older sister&#8217;s friends said something to me that I didn&#8217;t really understand. We had all been water skiing and he said, <em>&#8220;Boy, I could really make a lot of money with you. Want to go on a trip? I&#8217;d have the guys lined up.&#8221;<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Dumb me, I didn&#8217;t really get what he meant. Never happened as I stopped going on the water skiing trips with my sister and her family soon after. Only in hindsight did I understand what he might have been thinking. He wanted to <strong>&#8216;pimp me out.&#8217;<\/strong> What a nice guy, right? Wow, was I naive.<\/p>\n<p>The worst blind date ever happened next. The guy took me to a drive-in movie. Yeah, loads of fun for a first date. Also, it was a double feature. The first movie: &#8216;Texas Chain Saw Massacre.&#8217; Not my type of movie. His car had bucket seats. When he tried to grope me, I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I stayed in the bathroom for the rest of the movie and then told him I didn\u2019t feel well and please take me home.<\/p>\n<p>Wow, he walked me to my door and even tried to kiss me (again). I turned my face, and said good-bye. Dodged a bullet with that one. When my friend called to ask how the date went I told them everything and Thanks but no Thanks. No more blind dates!<\/p>\n<p>A few years later, I was engaged to Phil and went on a trip with a group of people. It was the 70\u2019s so yes, we had separate rooms. The plan for one of the days was to spend it on a yacht that one of the group had sailed down to Mexico. It was a beautiful boat. We met at the dock and were shuttled to the yacht on a launch, an open boat with an engine by one of the crew members.<\/p>\n<p>Jack and his wife, Martha and their son and daughter-in-law greeted us as we boarded. We got a tour of the yacht. Wow, I had never been on a yacht before and was awed. The weather was beautiful and the day sailing around the bay was magical. As the party was winding down, I headed down to the \u2018head\u2019 below deck.<\/p>\n<p>As I was exiting the restroom, one of the male crew members blocked my way. I said excuse me but he didn\u2019t move. The next thing I knew, he had shoved me against the wall and started grabbing me all over. I was struggling to get away when he started whispering in a dark husky voice what he was going to do to me. I managed to knee him and get away.<\/p>\n<p>Shaken, I found Phil and told him not to leave me alone. He could see I was upset but I didn\u2019t say anything. I didn\u2019t even enjoy the sunset that everyone was raving about. The day and trip were lost on me now.<\/p>\n<p>In shifts, we got into the launch and were taken back to the dock.<br \/>\nThe same ugly crew member was our driver. Phil and I were the last ones to get off the launch.<\/p>\n<p>I had one foot on the dock and one in the launch when the driver pulled away. I fell HARD onto the side of the dock slamming my right thigh against the side. OMG did that hurt. I\u2019m surprised that I didn\u2019t break my leg. I made it onto the dock, Phil got off and said a few words to the driver. The rest of group wondered what happened. The driver had a sneer on his face. <span style=\"text-decoration: underline;\">NOT A NICE GUY.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>When Phil and I got back to my room, I told him what had happened. He wanted to go beat up the guy. We were going to meet up with Jack, Martha and the rest of the group a little later. I met with Jack and Martha and told them what happened on the boat.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was fuming, Martha was upset and wanted to know if there was anything they could do for me. Phil also mentioned the incident on the dock. Martha went into the bathroom with me and I showed her the massive bruising that was starting to show up.<\/p>\n<p>The crew member was fired right after that and Jack\u2019s daughter-in-law admitted to them the guy had tried to do the same thing to a girlfriend of hers weeks before. She didn\u2019t want to get the guy in trouble so she didn\u2019t say anything. Times were different then. It took guts to come forward for something was not a full on rape in those days. I wish she had spoken up before our trip.<\/p>\n<p>What was my take away from the experience? I internalized it. I blamed myself. I changed the way I dressed. I didn\u2019t wear make-up that often. I tried to make myself invisible. If I wasn\u2019t seen or was not attractive, it wouldn\u2019t happen again. It was my fault.<\/p>\n<p>I gained a little weight. That was my \u2018protection, my armor\u2019. Each pound was another layer. Every woman, girl, female handles an experience like this differently. Today\u2019s women are speaking up and getting help.<\/p>\n<p><em>&#8216;Boys will be Boys&#8217;<\/em> but Girls will be <span style=\"text-decoration: underline;\"><em>WOMEN<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p>I finally accept that none of these were my fault.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s time to set it down.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ve been carrying for too long. . .<\/p>\n<p><em>Frances Graziano Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; Shhhhhh . . . That&#8217;s the generation in which I grew up. Shhhhh, don&#8217;t say anything. The recent topic in the news as well as #MeToo has caused me to reflect. When I was a young girl, I loved to swim. I was on a swim team and anytime we could get to the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-665","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5uF4f-aJ","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/665","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=665"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/665\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":666,"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/665\/revisions\/666"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=665"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=665"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.frantasticfran.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=665"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}