Sometimes, a Kiss is Not Just a Kiss
Realizing that #IToo was sexually assaulted
Reading what happened to Jenni Hermoso (the Spanish football player and star who was sexually assaulted by Luis Rubiales, the President of the Spanish Football Association) triggered something that happened to me 15 years ago. I shrugged it off at the time because I was so embarrassed and disgusted. Here’s what happened.
On election night, 2008, I brought a TV into CAV, my wine bar, so that our customers could watch the returns and celebrate (which we did when we learned Obama won) or drown their sorrows (which we also did when we found out that Prop 8 — a CA state ballot measure banning same sex marriage — passed) with/in a glass of wine. Shortly after the race was called for Obama, one of our investors approached the bar, and in celebration, I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, or maybe he leaned towards me — either way, up until that point, we had a friendly rapport. He moved his mouth to my lips and tried to stick his tongue in. I was shocked. He was the last person I thought would do something like this if, for no other reason, he identified as a gay man. Other people saw, including my partner, and were like, “What was that about?” I explained that I was grossed out by it, but some people insinuated that I invited or participated in said kiss. I should have kicked him out, but I didn’t. A slap across the face might have been called for, but that didn’t happen either; I don’t have a violent instinct. Instead, he became a very difficult investor.
I’ve held this inside for years, still acting like it wasn’t a big deal. When I heard stories about #MeToo, I felt like more of an ally to those who experienced sexual assault than a survivor. Now, I’m willing to admit that #Itoo belong in this club.
I have no idea what happened to the person who sexually assaulted me. I haven’t had any contact with him in over a decade and don’t wish to engage with him on this or anything else. For many reasons, he is someone I don’t want to have in my life now or ever.
However, I’m grappling with how others reacted. If the same thing happened today, I want to believe that they would respond differently. Fifteen years ago, people of all genders were conditioned to think that any unwelcome sexual contact with women was partially their fault. Some media, churches, and other institutions still perpetuate this message, which is one reason why, even today, so few people who are sexually assaulted speak up. I suspect that unwanted kisses are more common than unwanted intercourse, and while they might not be steeped in as much physical violence or consequences such as STDs or pregnancies, they have an impact. First, It’s a brutish display of power he — a male — felt he had over me. In that instance, I really felt powerless because I did not want to make a scene with a bar filled with people, especially when there was so much joy from Obama’s win. It also left me to explain to my partner and others that I did not invite the tongue kiss, but I know some didn’t believe me. Their sneers and comments implied that not only did I ask for the kiss, but that I enjoyed it, and that by denying that, I was lying not only about how that kiss made me feel but also about my sexuality (I’ve been a proud, out lesbian for over 30 years). Perhaps the worst part was how dirty it made me feel; I showered as soon as I got home.
Now that the discomfort from this memory has again come to the surface, I feel I need to address it. No, I wasn’t raped, like E. Jean Caroll and others, but I still felt violated and will no longer brush it off. I am no longer embarrassed; I did nothing wrong. I believe that my journey of calling out misogyny in the wine industry over the last ten years was subconsciously influenced by this and other instances of feeling disrespected and violated by men in numerous ways throughout my career. As far as this incident is concerned, my mouth is now open, not to an unwelcome tongue, but to honestly discuss this incident and support others who’ve undergone similar experiences. In the last few days, I’ve discovered that this happened to some of my colleagues and friends.
And, to finish where I began, I want to thank Jenni Hermoso, and those who’ve courageously spoken out about the shame and trauma that something that may seem as innocuous as an unwanted kiss can bring. Sometimes, a kiss is not just a kiss.
