Elle, when I was in Hawaii, Waikiki, Kuhio Ave. just down the street from the famous gay bar known as Hulas, in an open parking lot between Kuhio and Lewers Street, with the cars going by in broad daylight, a Black, gay man grabbed me by the balls, like it was some proposition to which I felt trapped and endangered. Luckily, he didn't squeeze them. I was terrified, but when he let go, I was also angry and hoping there was a police man near by, but there wasn't and he was gone in seconds. I was stunned. I know how you felt on a superficial level. He was someone I would never have sex with. It was like an act he would have never been granted but decided to take because he could, like being in an elevator.

But, with you as a woman, I cannot imagine the greater extent it took, since you couldn't seem to control what happened to you from someone, who was stronger, and as you said with the second man, it seemed like he was going to hurt you.

It happened to me again later in life, when I had assisted photographing a famous opera singer. I had invited him to lunch at my place after the shoot simply to pick his brain about the business and to support my friend, who was the primary photographer during a shoot for Opera News Magazine. I thought it was a nice idea, except that he was a sexually aggressive person, who kissed me and I felt violated. I never indicated an interest. He took advantage of my hospitality. I was sickened by it. It now makes me sensitive to just kissing someone or touching them unless I have made it clear I am interested and that it would be OK for me to make a pass. I am so sorry that happened to you. The thought of my experiences still bring me to a rage even now.