sleazebags

I am repulsed by sexual innuendo

Men who use it are sleazy

They don’t respect my boundaries

They don’t respect me

They don’t respect women

When we deflect their advances

They call us bitches

They think they’re entitled

They’re not

Cecile Ravell©2025

I wrote this poem after I was recently subjected to inappropriate behaviour. Yet again.

When I was younger, I froze when confronted by uninvited advances.

It wasn't flattering then, it isn't flattering now.

But now I have a voice.

I've previously written a story about the 1970s and 1990s.

Here we are in 2026 and "entitled" males are still out there.

In the past ten years, four men have "tried it on".

It seems that if you engage in polite conversation with toxic males, they see it as an invitation.

S1 (in his 60s) was in a writers' work-shopping group I was a member of.

He asked me if could drop off this short story for my opinion, as he was entering it in a competition. I obliged.

Some time later, at the library Christmas party, he put his arm around me and I shrugged it off.

He said to the person I was talking to, "She's a bitch."

S2 (80 years old) was from a Men's Shed.

He came to inspect my gutters with a view to cleaning them with an tool that could be used on the ground.

He settled himself in for a chat, then started to tell me a story of how to groom a horse so that it would follow you.

He then sent me suggestive text messages, saying he was waiting when I was ready to follow. Ick!

S3 (76 years old) was a renowned surgeon who I'd recently re-connected with after 40 years.

He wanted to engage me to write his autobiography and invited me to lunch to discuss "the project".

I noted he was wearing a wedding ring. He was in his fourth marriage, but had been discovered having an affair.

Why he told me, I can only surmise, but when I made it plain I wasn't on the market, "the project" was not pursued.

S4 (in his 60s)

I'd read out a short story at a writers' meeting.

The female protagonist proclaimed she finally experienced sexually gratification.

One of the male members sleazed over to my table grinning in a "wink wink, nudge, nudge" way.

I felt my safe space had been violated.

I feel good that I've got this out there. it was living in my brain rent-free.