Accused: My story

I waited, almost impatiently, for the #MeToo backlash, generally voiced as "But what if some men are wrongfully accused?"

As I pointed out to more than one worried man, there are laws pertaining to libel and slander that provide recourse. A video clip of Courtney Love, in which she is asked if Harvey Weinstein assaulted her, contains her fear-filled response, "I'll get libelled if I say it!"

My initial response, which arises in me more often than I like to admit, is Boo f-in' hoo, guys. Too many times I'd heard a man boast of a sexual encounter and knew that it never happened. Uncountable times I've heard a man make explicit comments about a woman's body or sexual history, with no thought about consequences to her.

I was reacting to witnessing fifty-five years of frequent, casual misogyny, which some of the accused say was "programmed into them" and "part of the culture".

But let's say a man is falsely accused. An online search pulls up a number of resources, depending on whether the alleged behaviour is workplace-related or private, and vary by jurisdiction. I wish those wrongly accused success in their redress, and acknowledge that once accused, the taint of wrongdoing lingers.

I know what this is like. Thirty-five years ago, when I was thirty-four and single, my boss accused me of sexual misconduct.

I worked in a large corporation. Eddie and Stewart, two colleagues from the UK office, came to Toronto on a two-week assignment. They shared a hotel room; both were married.

At the end of the stay, Eddie's wife would arrive on Friday to join him for a week's holiday; Stewart would book his own room for one night, before he flew home Saturday. Stewart came to see me at closing on Friday, embarrassed that he didn't have enough money for the room; he'd spent his trip cash and his wife had maxed their credit card. I think he had about $25 in his pocket.

He wondered if I could get him a pay advance, but that wasn't possible. Nor did he want to ask Eddie for money; Eddie was running short too, so his wife was bringing extra cash. (This was the era before international ATM networks and personal e-mail.)

I immediately offered the sofa bed in my living room; he gratefully accepted. Stewart bunked in for the night. On Saturday morning, I gave him $40 for cab fare and lunch.

Weeks later, my boss, "Marion", a whip-smart 40-something executive (and one of the few women at that level), reviewed both Eddie and Stewart's expense accounts.

Marion asked me why there was no hotel charge for Stewart for Friday night. I explained the situation. She immediately accused me of engineering a sexual liaison, and said, "You put your own needs ahead of the company", and "His wife is pregnant, how is she going to take this?"

She did not ask me, she told me it had happened, and also said that I had "gone after him", implying harassment.

I replied that her accusation was entirely false, that I had helped him in an emergency, and that if I'd lived alone, I might have thought about it, but because I had a roommate, I didn't view my hospitality as improper. (In hindsight, I wish I'd called Marion to apprise her of the situation.) When I said he'd been stranded without even enough money to get home, she said, "That's his problem."

I could feel myself losing composure. I said, "Look, if I wanted to spend the night with Stewart, I could figure out how to do it so no one would know." Then I was furious for digging myself in deeper by giving the impression I'd even imagine that scenario. (In four years, I had never dated anyone in the company; when I took that job I vowed that no one there would ever see me without my clothes on. One of my girlfriends called this strategy Four Hundred Men and Not One Penis.)

I also said, "You know I have a boyfriend, you've met him!" You say all sorts of things when you're cornered and unprepared.

I left her office reeling, furious, fighting tears.

I did not take my case to HR because in her role, she oversaw the corporate HR function. I considered getting legal advice, but waited to see if she would pursue it further; the usual process was a disciplinary letter, at minimum. When she did not, I thought, Well, that's over—but I suspected she still saw me as guilty.

Less than a year later, she left the company because her husband wished to return to the US; I was promoted to her role. I found my file, with her handwritten notes that detailed the incident. My guilt was presented as fact, my explanation was absent. She had capitalized phrases like "INAPPROPRIATE SEXUAL CONDUCT" and "MARRIED MAN".

The irony is that during the four years when I reported to her, I fielded scurrilous rumours about her: "You know Marion and Ted are having an affair, don't you?" I always replied: "Were you in the room?"

When I visited the UK office the next year, I told Stewart about the incident; he was aghast. He had never heard about it, from her or his manager.

He apologized profusely and wanted to speak to Marion. But she was gone by then, and if she didn't believe me, would she believe him?

Times have changed and I have, too. Today, I'd ask for an immediate investigation, because now I view her behaviour as bullying, and bullies thrive where no one can witness their moves. Following the investigation, I would demand removal of any notes concerning the incident, and ask that she be formally advised of the legal repercussions of slander and libel.

I am no longer so naive, and more attuned to how things can look to a person who assumes the worst—the corporate buzzword is "optics".

When someone raises concern about unjust accusations, I listen and remember. There will be accusations driven by retribution, confusion or psychological issues, or cases like mine in which a person is accused by a third party.

At the time, I felt nauseous when I thought of an investigation, viewed it as invasive; now I would see its purpose. We should address each charge and seek the truth, because to deny the prevalence of harassment is to support it.