The Prices of Shame
You are looking at a woman who was publicly silent for a decade. Obviously, that’s changed, but only recently.
It was veral months ago that I gave my very first major public talk at the Forbes 30 Under 30 summit: 1,500 brilliant people, all under the age of 30. That meant that in 1998,the oldest among the group were only 14,and the youngest, just 4. I joked with them that some might only have heard of me from rap songs. Yes, I’m in rap songs. Almost 40 rap songs.
But the night of my speech, a surprising thing happened. At the age of 41, I was hit on by a 27-year-old guy. I know, right? He was charming and I was flattered, and I declined. You know what his unsuccessful pickup line was? He could make me feel 22 again. I realized later that night, I’m probably the only person over 40 who does not want to be 22 again.
At the age of 22, I fell in love with my boss, and at the age of 24, I learned the devastating conquences. Can I e a show of hands of anyone here who didn’t make s mistake or do
死开头的成语something they regretted at 22? Yep. That’s what I thought. So like me, at 22, a few of you may have also wrong turns and fallen in love with the wrong person, maybe even your boss. Unlike me though, your boss probably wasn’t the president of the United States of America. Of cour life is full of surpri.
Not a day goes by that I’m not reminded of my mistake, and I regret that mistake deeply. In 1998, after having been swept up into an improbable romance, I was the swept up into the eye of a political, legal and media maelstrom like we had never en before. Remember, just a few years earlier, news was consumed from just three places: reading a newspaper or magazine, listening to the radio, or watching television. That was it.
But that wasn’t my fate. Instead, this scandal was brought to you by the digital revolution. That meant we could access all the information we wanted.， when we want it, anytime, anywhere, and when the story broke in January 1998. It broke online. It was the first time the traditional news was usurped by the internet for a major news story, a click that reverberated around the world.
What that meant for me personally was that overnight I went from being a completely private figure to a publicly humiliated one worldwide. I was patient zero of losing a personal reputation on a global scale almost instantaneously. This rush by judgment, enabled by technology, led to mobs of virtual stone-throwers. Granted, it was before social media, but people could still comment online, email stories, and, of cour, email cruel jokes. News sources plastered photos of me all over to ll newspaper, banner ads online, and to keep people tuned to the TV.
Do you recall a particular image of me, say, wearing a beret? Now, I admit I made mistakes, especially wearing that beret. B关于早恋的好处ut the attention and judgment that I received, not the story, but that I personally received, was unprecedented. I was branded as a tramp, tart, slut, whore, bimbo, and of cour, 螃蟹的做法that woman. I was en by many but actually known by few. And I get it: it was easy to forget that woman was dimensional, had a soul, and was once unbroken.
When this happened to me 17 years ago, there was no name for it. Now we call it cyberb
ullying and online harassment. Today, I want to share some of my experience with you, talk about how that experience has helped shape my cultural obrvations, and how I hope my past experience can lead to a change that result in less suffering for others.
In 1998, I lost my reputation and my dignity. 五五摊销法合作社法I lost almost everything, and I almost lost my life. Let me paint a picture for you. It is September of 1998; I’m sitting in a windowless office room inside the office of the independent counl underneath humming fluorescent lights. 化学防治I’m listening to the sound of my voice, my voice on surreptitiously taped phone calls that a suppod friend had made the year before. 梦见家里发大水I’m here becau I’ve been legally required to personally authenticate all 20 hours of taped conversation. For the past eight months, the mysterious content of the tapes has hung like the Sword of Damocles over my head. I mean, who can remember what they said a year ago? Scared and mortified, 流行说唱I listen, listen as I prattle on about the flotsam and jetsam of the day; listen as I confess my love for the president, and of cour, my heartbreak; listen to my sometimes catty, sometimes churlish, sometimes silly lf being cruel, unforgiving, uncouth; listen, deeply, deeply ashamed, to the wor version of mylf, a lf I don’t even recognize.
