Bravo for Lucy Flores,
Joe Biden responded to her that in all his years on the campaign trail never did he ever believe he acted inappropriately and if anyone suggested that he did, well, that was not his intention.
To which Flores replied: "Frankly, my point was never about his intentions, and they shouldn't be about his intentions. It should be about the women on the receiving end of that behavior...You don't expect that kind of intimacy from someone that you have no real relationship with, to touch you, to feel you, to be so close to you."
She went on to say that such behaviors as Biden exhibited were not being taken seriously from the perspective of the person on the weaker side of the power dynamic, that is, the woman.
Bravo to Lucy Flores for clarifying what too many women have felt but couldn't quite verbalize.
Myself, for example.
Once, several decades ago, I was in church with my husband and kids when I was taken by surprise by the feel of two hands on my shoulders, digging in, massaging. I turned around to see a man that I sort of knew from church and from around town. He was a successful local business man, a rather vociferous guy, a glad-hander for sure. He was somebody that most everybody in our small suburb knew and probably most people liked in a general way. But in a general way was probably the most that I liked or even knew him. I'd hardly call him a friend. And I didn't like that he just started rubbing my shoulders in church.
Did he injure me? No. Was it sexual harassment? I don't think so. Did he intend any offense? Surely not. Did he think he had the right to just start massaging the shoulders of a woman he scarcely knew? Apparently so. Was I vexed by this man taking the liberty of putting his hands on me in what felt like an intimate way? Yes, I was. Did I say anything to him about it? Of course not. I just smiled at him, very coolly, I'm sure, after which I probably simmered for a few moments then let it go.
The following week I was once again in church, this time having purposely chosen for the family a different pew just in case Mr. Shoulder-Massager always sat in the same spot.
Shortly after we'd settled into our seats I felt two hands on my shoulders, sinking into my anterior and posterior deltoids. Now I was steamed. I jerked around...to see one of my girl friends. I smiled and gave her a hug.
What a difference a power dynamic makes.