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bear by san

February 2017



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criminal minds fate

This is just to say:

To everybody who has opined recently that sexual harassment policies at conventions mean an end to flirtation, dating, and romance at cons--

I'm involved in a relationship with somebody I met, befriended, and grew to love largely at conventions. He never once felt the need to grope me, make an inappropriate comment on my body or dress, or ask if anything I was wearing was meant as a coded sexual message before the moment when we figured out that we were each interested in one another in a romantic sense.

Neither flirting nor building emotional connection is harassment, folks--and harassment is not flirting.

It's not actually all that complicated.


Flirting's fun until it crosses that "but I KNOW you don't mean to be so standoffish" line, assuming that enough persistence and, uh, "sweet-talking" will eventually wear down an ice-queen's resistance and warm embraces will, of course, follow. Uh,no. If someone is inching away from you, physically or verbally, the correct response is not to keep following in the hope that somehow somewhere you might find a gap in the obvious fence and slip through into a territory access to which is not willingly given. THAT'S when it crosses into harassment. That implicit smirking knowledge by the harasser that resistance WILL crumble, by God, or else - because he's so irresistibly cute or something, I don't know.

That's the tactic used by my super-cute sweet now lost and much missed cat who never really grew up beyond being a kitten and whose only defense against misdemeanours he was caught in was a head-to-the-side-blink-blink-blink thing that said, "But I'm so CUTE! How could you possibly be mad at me?" Yeah, no, it didn't always work THERE, either. And trust me, he was a lot cuter than any wannabe Romeo who won't take no for an answer could possibly be.