Come to my hotel room, he says.

And she does.

Before.

The gray area between pursuit and assault is a tricky one. Perhaps coy behavior worked well coupled with college and keg beer, maybe an innocent suggestion that garnered success, maybe a person who brims with confidence and no one was ever stern or said no. Simply, a person does what they have always done and been allowed to do, not necessarily related to sex, the issue is in the ever so broken chain of command.

During.

The line is clear now. There is no reading of signals, unless the reading is entirely one-sided. There is no consensual relationship unless one person feels they have no choice, but what is no choice? This can be tricky too. If the choice is a job, then perhaps it is a choice. Do as I say or be killed? In that case, the choice is clear that there is no other option.

After.

It’s over or maybe it’s not over. Maybe it continues for years or five minutes. Maybe that person got the coveted job or position or movie role. Should I tell or not tell? Was I forced or did I choose? Was there even a choice? Stay silent or speak up, an hour or a year or a decade, the after can stretch quite a long while.

Sexual assault. Sexual misconduct. Sexual harassment. Unwanted sexual advances.

They all mean different things, yet the root of power runs deep. I have two friends that were raped as children, powerless to make a choice.

We need to raise sons who aren’t treated as deities.

We need to hire men and not treat them as deities.

We need to raise daughters who feel powerful.

We need to hire women who are supported in their strength.

We need to talk about the offering, the making and the confronting of choices.

Come to my hotel room, he says.

Fuck you, she says.