Story 105

My path to a leading investment bank (“The Bull”) began because a former co-worker at the small financial services firm where I worked attempted to rape me in my own home. I woke to find this 6’4” man on top of me as I slept, pinning my arms to my side. My two-year-old was in her crib in the other room. My husband was away on business. I managed to talk my co-worker out of what he was intending to do—What about his girlfriend? Didn’t he play on a softball team with my husband? We were all friends, right?

Finally, he left. In shock, I gathered my daughter from her crib and spent the night in the shower stall with the bathroom door locked, in case he changed his mind.

My husband was rightly outraged. He wanted to go ballistic on this person. Bust down doors at the company. He wanted me to file a police report. But for reasons that many women may relate to, I just wanted to move on. I was 27, just beginning my career and in the final year of my MBA. It was supposed to be all up from here.

Coincidentally, a recruiter called me just days before with a contract opportunity at The Bull. I’d said no because the position was not permanent and the role seemed boring. But now this position was a lifeline. I called the recruiter back and said yes.

My first day, I was escorted to my new location where I shared friendly hellos with my three new coworkers: two men and a woman. I said nothing of why I left my prior company, just how excited I was to be working at such a prestigious firm. I mentioned I was married with a young daughter.

After 10 minutes or so, we all returned to our seats. I settled in to read the various orientation materials. Soon, I received an email from “Mike.” It started out friendly with offers to help get situated. “Thank you,” I replied. “So far, so good!”

After a short time, another email from Mike: Did I want to see his most impressive d*ck?

Oh my god. Was this really happening?

Our small cubicles were arranged in a circle, and I could feel his stare. Ignoring did not work. Nor was replying that I was not interested, that I was married. That I was a mother.

Reporting him was not an option. I was a consultant. They could simply end my contract.

In the coming days, there might be hours or even a day of silence, but then more emails, always graphic. If there was an email monitoring system, his filth was not flagged.

Soon, it graduated to physical harassment. Mike would block my way in the hall, pressing up against me. He would insist in low tones that I was trying to seduce him. (My standard attire was a pantsuit with a turtleneck underneath.) Once he followed me into the women’s room. Another time, to the parking lot after work.

I tried getting the other man in the group to intervene, but he just shrugged and said Mike was Mike, an odd guy who probably meant nothing by it. I told my husband this was happening and he wanted me to quit asap! But we had a new house, daycare and two sets of student loans. I knew we very much needed my income. And how would that look? Quitting two jobs in short succession?

I put up with this for another 6 months, trying to walk everywhere with the other woman on our team. Luckily a new role and a permanent opportunity was offered to me in another group in another building. Goodbye, problem. Or so I thought.

I’ll end it here by saying that Mike was just the first. A few years later, there was also an attempted assault at an offsite from a co-worker who’d told me earlier that day he’d gotten engaged. Then there was another co-worker, then my boss (who was given a wonderful retirement party after I reported him) and finally, a client.

It was reporting the client’s behavior that was the final nail in my career there. My “superstar” performance rating—verbatim from my review—was suddenly downgraded at the next cycle to “needs improvement” and “hard to work with.” I knew the clock was ticking. Fortunately, a headhunter had called around that time. I left for another financial company for a higher title and pay raise.

As many others have reported, using the Ethics line and going to HR were worse than doing nothing at all, despite the mandatory annual training about unbecoming conduct and how to report it.

Engaging an employment attorney was also a dead end. While the attorney agreed there was a strong pattern of abuse over years, he said that the company would fight hard, the situation would make the press and, ultimately, no firm would hire me. He suggested that I just move on and look at my newly secured better position elsewhere as a “gift.”