I am in my thirties now, and recently I made a difficult but necessary decision: I left the career I had built over the past decade. Though I nearly completed a doctorate in the field, I was deeply unhappy, and I knew that if I wanted to change my life, the time had to be now.
Since college, I’ve often been offered “help” from male superiors. In my younger years, I wasn’t considered attractive, so attention from men was rare. Later, after leaving a toxic family and rebuilding my life, I learned to care for myself—exercising, eating well, and finding confidence. For the first time, I felt I had a future worth shaping.
I want to be clear: I don’t harbor resentment toward men. But I am not driven by sex, and it took me a long time to realize that many men extend kindness or assistance with ulterior motives. That realization has left me cautious.
Recently, I’ve been working on my own business idea. Because of past experiences, I hesitate to accept help from men, even when it seems genuine.
On a trip not long ago, my flight was delayed. I struck up a conversation with the man seated beside me. He introduced himself as a cardiovascular surgeon. My background was in nursing, specializing in trauma surgery, so we had common ground. I shared my idea for a concierge healthcare service, and he seemed intrigued.
He offered to help me pursue it. At first, I thought he might be sincere. He spent an hour showing me photos of his wife and daughter, speaking warmly of them. We exchanged numbers, and he even gave me the personal contact of a friend in the Department of Health who could advise me.
When our flight finally boarded, he switched seats so we could continue talking. For three more hours, we discussed my plans. But just before landing, the tone shifted abruptly. He leaned in close and asked—loudly—if we should intentionally miss our connecting flights.
I was startled and asked why we would do that. His answer was blunt: he wanted to book us a hotel so he could sleep with me.
I flushed with embarrassment. The passenger beside us overheard, and I told him people could hear. His response was simply, “So?” I felt deeply uncomfortable and rushed off the plane as soon as we landed.
Later, I searched his credentials online. He was indeed accomplished, and the thought that his help could have advanced my business made me feel sick. That was three months ago. Yesterday, he texted to ask how my “business” was going. I have no intention of replying.
