She’s Just Flirty

Written by a 22-year-old, Chicago

I was never flirting with the man at the grocery store. I wasn’t flirting with the pledge driver, my professor, nor with that one boy in my class. I was simply being kind. When, and more importantly why, did my kindness become sexualized?

I remember when I turned 12, which was an age that apparently deemed me old enough to be interested in boys. Suddenly my natural kindness and friendliness shifted into “flirtiness.” This wasn’t a label I donned for myself – I was never asked if this was a label that even felt good to me. I wasn’t given the opportunity to explain that I just smile to make the recipient feel good about themselves, or that I make jokes because I am constantly anxious that others will find me weird. One day, someone else decided I was “a flirt”, and since then my actions have forever been perceived differently – in a way that has prompted men to do things I never consented to.

I was being kind. That kindness was translated into flirtiness by my peers, and that perceived flirtiness prompted unsolicited and nonconsensual advances from men. Sadly, I’ve learned to expect many of these behaviors: inappropriate sexts, random dick pics, and multiple touches that lasted too long. Although I’ve come to expect them, the fear and pain I feel is still very real. This “flirt” label is like an eraser to my boundaries.

In September, I started my first real job of adulthood. I worked hard to get there, and I was working even harder to prove that I belonged there. In the remote world of working during a pandemic, everything requires technology. Our company’s technology coordinator, I’ll call him Mike, was really helping to get me settled. We spent so much time together, and I naturally engaged in some friendly small-talk with him. When he finished a task I thanked him with genuine enthusiasm in my voice, smiling at him to convey my gratitude. I was not flirting with him. I was being kind to a coworker who was helping me. 

One day, Mike was installing a piece of technology that I would need to use everyday. As usual, I thanked him for making the time to help me, just as any person would do when someone else goes out of their way to offer help. As I thanked Mike, a friend stopped into my workspace and openly admired my flirting skills, loud enough for our surrounding peers to hear. Mike is over twice my age. When he heard what my friend said, he stopped being my friendly coworker, and instead started trying to woo me.

He brought me endless gifts, created art for me, followed me around our building, and used his work database to find my personal information to contact me late at night. He texted me to ask me out, and when I intentionally ignored the request, he sat in my workspace until I acknowledged him in what he perceived to be a romantic and sexual way. I was just being kind to a new coworker, and then suddenly I had to make the very uncomfortable decision to follow protocol and meet with our supervisor to report the harassment. 

As an adult, I know what it feels like when I am attracted to someone. And I will let them know in a way that is consensual and feels good to me. But until I reach that point, I can’t allow men to mistake my kindness and charm for flirtation, thinking they’re opening a door when in reality they’re destroying a wall I was trying to create.