I typically shy away from the political. Partly because I have too many causes that are too dear to me, and fighting for them, (and the welfare of those I love), already takes more hours than I have in a day. Partly because I’m a bit of a perfectionist and take the responsibility to be accurate seriously. Partly I’m sure due to a journalism class I took years ago taught by a very old school journalist who focused a great deal on the ethics of journalism.

The whole #MeToo thing and the ultimate fallout has been weighing on me. From Corey Feldman (You’re destroying an industry! Wait, what? Who cares about kids, don’t destroy an industry!) to the flood of posts in my social media feeds that made it clear that the estimates of sexual assault survivors were insanely low, to the response from Louis CK (and the backlash from Lena Headey), I can’t stay silent.

I have to say, that when I reread Louis CK’s statement through the lens of Ms. Headey’s retort, there’s probably something to her accusations of narcissism. Although, narcissism is high among performers already. Is that really surprising? What I take more to heart is, that amid a sea of denials, threats, evasions, and other atrocious behavior among the accused, his statement does stand out for its unflinching admission of his behavior and strongly worded admonitions about how far his behavior deviated from the standard he wishes he had held himself too. I don’t wish he stopped at “I was wrong and I’m sorry.”. And I suspect he’ll even take Ms. Headey’s critique as he backs away from the public eye to take time to listen.

But I’m bothered that we can’t come to grips with the fact that these actions would only be committed by flawed people in the first place, or that the one who truly tried to use their platform for a greater purpose seems to be the target of the most vitriol.

Beyond being confused and confounded by the turns this story takes, I keep grappling with why victims hide and predators don’t. I see this repeated in life again and again. Survivors call themselves weak for daring to love, to trust, to give, only to find they loved, trusted and gave to the wrong person, and predators flaunt themselves in full public view.

I don’t know how to make sense of that topsy-turvy realization.

It’s just horribly distressing.

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