A couple of years ago, I was accused of being a bully.   The person who made the accusation did not confront me, or talk to me, or contact me.   She cut off all contact and blocked me from any means of defending myself from the accusation – which was totally untrue – aside from going to every friend we had in common and trying to explain what was really happening.

I was left wounded and scarred – and I still bear those scars.

I’ve been thinking about this episode in my life a lot lately.   I’ve been accused of many things in my lifetime – I’m not a kid and you don’t get to my age without pissing off a few people along the way.    This was the first time I felt helpless.   I don’t start fights, never have, I’m the one who finishes them.   This feeling of not being able to fight back was something that I never want to experience again.

Why is this on my mind lately?    Watching famous men being taken down by accusations – while some of them are not people I like or admire and I admit to a touch of glee at their tumbling from their pedestals , I find myself comparing what’s happening to them to what happened to me.   They’re given no chance to defend themselves, immediately we’re told that women don’t lie.   (Here’s a dirty little secret.  Women lie.   I know, I am one.  I would never lie about being sexually assaulted, but some would, indeed some would)

There is guilt on both sides of the political aisle.   It makes me sick, it makes me fear for my country.    It is not right to ruin someone’s life to further an agenda.   It’s just not right.