Dear Anna,
I found out today that a former sexual partner of mine has a fun bag of STIs that he didn’t disclose to me while we were sleeping together. This person has since become a (non-sexual) close friend of mine. We work together in art. He’s a cornerstone of the artist community I’ve become a part of. I’ve also learned he hasn’t disclosed his health status to any of the women he’s been with since me, including his current, serious new partner (who he met through the community). How do I even begin to sort through this situation? Do I leave the community? Do I tell everyone I know in the community? I don’t want my own sexual health/experiences to become some juicy bullshit in this group. I also don’t want to leave the group and leave the women in the group, or their friends—who he will probably try to sleep with—at risk. I don’t want to lose the friends I’ve made in this community. He had a hard convo with his best friend (a woman) where he promised he learned and was telling people. He’s not. He’s still doing it. The woman he’s dating right now didn’t know. Like longer term partners, friends, not just random hookups. I understand the stigma but it’s also like – you look me in the face every fucking day and you don’t care for my health. My body. How the f*ck are we still having to #metoo right now? Guidance please.—Fast and Furious
Dear FF,
What a doozy of a question. This is an undeniably difficult situation that involves not just your and your former partner’s personal lives but also the health and integrity of a community that you love. It goes without saying that this issue should be approached delicately, but it’s critical to remember: You are not responsible for his actions nor the consequences of them.
To help with your predicament, I reached out to Kate Sassoon (sassycooperates.org), who has more than two decades’ experience with group conflict management, facilitation, and is well-versed in the ins-and-outs (pun unintended) of artist communities.
Sassoon encourages you to focus your attention on his dishonesty rather than his sexual health status. “STIs are tricky topics, yes, and sexual safety is a relative thing in a risk-balancing world and none of that matters because the actions he took showed blatant disrespect for the agency of another person that he represented himself as respecting.”
That he did this not just with one person but with multiple people, repeatedly, shows “a pattern of disrespect, and it does neither him, you, or your community any honor to permit it any longer.”
(For more on the repercussions of such harmful behaviors, Sassoon recommends reading “The Missing Stair.”)
At the end of the day, this is fundamentally about respect and taking responsibility for one’s actions. His lack of transparency and information sharing limits others’ ability to make informed decisions about their own health and body, as you’re well aware of.
“… He didn’t provide them with the full information they needed to consent to their relationship, and in doing so, disrespected them and potentially put them in harm’s way,” Sassoon emphasizes.
The decision to stay in or leave the community is also complex, but remember, this is your community too. You have every right to remain a part of a community you have invested your time, energy, and talent in. Leaving a community you love because of another person’s actions might feel like an additional injustice.
First step, one-to-one intervention
While going public with his status is not your responsibility, when considering the potential risks for others, particularly other women in your community, it may be worthwhile to escalate things. Plus, as Sassoon points out, “If this person is truly a close friend, then you probably care about his personal growth and learning journey, and no one turns on a dime.”
It’s tricky, however, since you and at least one other person have tried a one-to-one intervention already and it didn’t stick—he’s still engaging in harmful behaviors. If three or more people have tried to talk to him about it, Sassoon notes, chances are likely that more attempts will have the same result, and it’s time to try something different.
Second step, small group intervention
The next possible escalation, Sassoon suggests, is to form a small group of directly affected individuals (3-7 core people, with more who can back you up virtually) who are willing to confront him on this issue together.
In this approach, the group would “let him know that they see him, see what he’s doing, and that they’re going to start publicly disclosing it to other members of the community in a less-than-public blast, but still actually public way.”
Sassoon emphasizes that this conversation should be done with love and compassion in order not to increase stigmatization, yet still maintain the critical need for accountability. Honesty about your own personal experiences with STIs can be a part of normalizing the conversation, if you’re open to that level of vulnerability.
Sassoon notes that this tactic is most effective when allies—meaning other men in this community, people he might want to sleep with, or anyone with significant status or resources he might want access to—join up as a part of that group. Because in an arts community, “reputation really matters and so do access to resources, so build your ‘intervention publicity group’ with those lenses in mind, and you’ll be much stronger.”
Third step: Nuclear option
If the small group intervention fails, Sassoon says there is a ‘nuclear option’—a full public shaming campaign, although she doesn’t recommend it, due to its potential to backfire. “It tends to stick to the shamer as well as the shamed.”
Final thoughts
Lastly, Sassoon warns to prepare for the possibility of being ignored or disbelief, advising that you have “your whisper network and rage room and self-care plan ready.”
Remember, also, that your anger, disappointment, and sense of betrayal are completely valid. Despite the strides made, we indeed still live in a world where awareness and respect for consent are not always upheld, leading to situations where the #metoo movement remains necessary. But these moments are also an opportunity for us to stand up, seek accountability, and ultimately, foster change.
Accountability, respect, and empathy should be at the heart of all our relationships and communities. And while dealing with this situation is intense and challenging, remember that it’s also a testament to your strength and resilience.
Stay strong, FF. We’re with you.
This column originally appeared on The Chicago Tribune.
Anna Pulley is a syndicated Tribune Content Agency columnist answering reader questions about love, sex and dating. Send your questions via email (anonymity guaranteed) to redeyedating@gmail.com, sign up for her infrequent (yet amazing) newsletter, or check out her books!
