Thanks to PanWhoWrites, whose great story was the inspiration for this.
Chapter One
Since I was young, I loved computers.
I loved everything about them. Massive amounts of information all at my fingertips. The possibilities were limitless. That's why I became a programmer—and I loved it.
I'd started at a young age, learning the basics on the bulky laptop my parents bought me. It was like magic.
By the time I was in college, I was already top of my class. Dr. Tygar, one of my professors, had high hopes for me.
"Gabrielle, if talent was all that mattered, you could choose any job you wanted," he said. "But the tech world is a male dominated industry."
I didn't want to believe him at the time, but eventually I realized he was right.
After college, I landed a gig at a little tech company in El Paso—that's where I met Mark.
It was a small start-up, nothing special. The work was basic—honestly, a bit boring—but it was an opportunity to finally prove myself and show the world what I was capable of. Unfortunately, the guys there were total assholes. I'd dealt with my fair share of jerks before, but this was on a whole different level.
Being a woman in the workforce is tough. Being a woman in the tech industry is even tougher. And it's
extremely
tough when you have H-cup breasts.
Guys in programming weren't exactly known for their social skills and as a result there was always a lot of uncomfortable staring.
I'm not sure whether guys realized how obvious it was or if they just didn't care. But no matter how much I dressed down—baggy sweatshirts, loose pants, anything to try and hide my figure—it never seemed to help.
I'm not ashamed of my body, far from it. As a feminist, I believe every woman should love her own unique figure, no matter what size or shape. But when it came to my job, I wanted to be taken seriously. I didn't want my breasts to be my defining feature. I wanted to be known as the best programmer around: not "the one with the big boobs".
The harassment at work was constant. This one guy, Zack, would call me TII. He claimed it was about my calculation skills, but everyone knew the real meaning.
"Tits Indisputably Included". Real mature, right?
But Mark was different. He was kind and treated me with respect, like an actual colleague. Plus he had this sort of nerdy charm I found appealing.
One day, I decided to ask him out, and we've been together ever since. He's not just my partner; he's my best friend. Someone I can talk with for hours and never get bored. I'm not sure if I ever want to get married or not, but he's the one I want by my side for the rest of my life.
That's why it hurt so much when I found out about the promotion...
The position of Lead Programmer had opened up, and not only was I overlooked, but our boss offered the job to Mark instead. It was so unfair. Not to sound arrogant, but I was the best programmer in the office by far. Much better than him, and he knew it.
If I was a man, it wouldn't have even been a question, I would've been promoted a long time ago. But no, talent doesn't mean much when your looks were a major handicap.
How are you supposed to lead a team if they don't respect you? It was ridiculous. And for Mark to just happily accept the position, like it was no big deal? He should've turned it down. He should've told them to promote me instead. He should've stood up for me.
I've had my fair share of betrayals over the years: I'd been cheated on (twice), and even had an ex leak topless pictures of me online. Those all hurt a lot, but somehow, this was even worse. It was a stab in the back from the person I trusted most.
We fought for hours. Then we didn't speak to each other for days. Neither of us were willing to admit we were wrong.
After nearly a week, we finally decided to talk things out. About the job, the promotion, the harassment—everything. I admitted how unhappy I'd been at work. How unhappy I'd been in general.
And so we came up with a plan.
We decided it was time for a change. To move somewhere new. Somewhere more progressive. Find a job where I could finally be taken seriously as a programmer. Texas just wasn't cutting it. Even in a fairly liberal city like El Paso, people were still stuck in their conservative ways. A place where many of the men still held onto traditional values and thought a woman's place was in the kitchen, or barefoot and pregnant.
We needed to go somewhere more open minded. Somewhere where sexual harassment in the workplace was a thing of the past. I'd always heard great things about Silicon Valley. There were lots of tech companies out there with strong women in leadership roles. Before long, we were packing our things into the U-Haul and heading to California.
I thought the move would be good for us.
* * *
Things seemed great at first. I'd found a job within just a few days, much quicker than I'd expected. A large corporation called Vision.
I thought things would be better at a big corporate gig. I'd convinced myself that the guys in Texas had only got away with things because it was just a small startup. Surely a huge company like Vision would take sexual harassment a lot more seriously.
Turns out I was wrong. It was just as bad. Worse even.
"Hey, toots, you get that file I sent?" asked Michael.
"Don't call me toots," I scowled.
"Lighten up. You'd be a lot prettier if you smiled."
Instead, I shot him my most menacing glare. He was such a dick. They were all pretty bad, but he was one of the worst.
The work itself was great. It was finally the challenge I'd been looking for. After being on autopilot for so long, finding a job that I could truly engage with was amazing. But why did every guy in the tech industry have to be such a sexist pig?
I thought there would be more female representation, instead I was the only woman on my team. Sure, there were other women in the office, but not as many as I'd hoped, especially among the programmers.
The guys there would all call me demeaning nicknames like "darlin", or "toots", or "babe". Some of them would even wolf-whistle when I walked in. At least the guys in Texas were somewhat subtle about it.
I tried to just bury myself in my work and ignore them as best I could. Until one day, I noticed something strange. People seemed to be giving me odd looks or whispering just out of view.
When I was nineteen, I dated this guy, Brian. I made the naïve mistake of sharing nudes with him and after we broke up, he leaked them online.
Luckily, I was able to catch it pretty quick. I spent what little money I had hiring a service that combed through the internet and sent takedown notices to any websites with the pictures. It was a relief that after a week or two, my nudes were nowhere to be found. Until now...
I stared at my email. There they were: forwarded to everyone in the office.
What the fuck.
I was so upset. I ran straight to HR, on the verge of tears, but they told me without knowing who originally sent them, all they could do was "open an investigation".
"Great, how helpful," I sarcastically muttered.
I thought the stares were bad before, but after the pictures leaked, the guys in the office became even more blatant about it. The harassment escalated, and I became the butt of all their sexist jokes. And it only got worse from there.
After that, my nudes showed up as my desktop wallpaper. Then they were snuck into my PowerPoint presentation. The guys all found it hilarious. They were all laughing. I couldn't stand them.
Then it was my company avatar. My business cards. They even printed them onto coffee mugs. My pictures were everywhere.
Every time I went to HR, they told me they'd "add it to the file," always dismissing my concerns. It was unbelievable how little they seemed to care. If this wasn't sexual harassment, then what the hell was? Mark told me I should contact a lawyer, but I really didn't want it to come to that. I just wanted it all to stop.
Silicon Valley is big, but it's not that big. Last thing I wanted was to be known as the woman who sued her employer. I'd never find a job in tech again.
But the constant harassment was draining. I went shopping with Mark and bought even bulkier clothes. The most plain, boring, purposefully unattractive outfits I could possibly find, but it didn't matter. The damage was already done and nearly the entire office had already seen me topless.
Every single day, I dragged myself home, completely drained. It was really starting to take a toll on my mental health. They made me feel awful about myself. Like I was just a walking pair of tits made for their amusement. Like that's all I was good for.
I had never felt so helpless before.
Mark was supportive, like always, but he didn't really understand what I was going through. Still, I was glad I had him to talk to. He was good at cheering me up at least.
The harassment continued. One day I was grabbing some papers from the printer when I felt a hand smack across my butt.
"What the fuck," I yelled, spinning around.
It was Michael. I was furious. Steam was practically pouring out my nostrils. He had this smug look on his face, that stupid grin of his. I couldn't believe it. Sharing my nudes was bad enough but now I was being physically assaulted?
I stormed over to the HR department and told them what happened. They assured me they'd handle it. Finally, something they couldn't just brush aside. Over the next several days I waited, expecting Michael to be fired or at least suspended. But nothing ever happened.
I felt stuck. I couldn't quit—we needed the money. Mark still hadn't found a job.
Feeling defeated, I sat down at my desk, my eyes landing on a colorful pamphlet atop a stack of papers. The title stood out:
WOMEN IN TECH.
I vaguely remembered seeing a copy in my orientation packet, though I never bothered to read it. Curious, I picked it up and scanned through the pages.
"Networking mixers, workplace rights... sexual harassment seminars".
I couldn't believe it. This was exactly what I needed. Maybe they could help me. This new discovery lit a fire inside me. I had almost given up hope that things would ever improve.
I called and set up an appointment for later that week. Initially, I was supposed to meet with Flynn Parson, the CEO, but when I arrived I was told that he was out of town for business. Instead, I'd be meeting with his number two: Sylvia.
The secretary at the front desk handed me a tablet and asked me to fill out my information.
After a while, I was escorted to Sylvia's office.
"Hello, Gabrielle?" she greeted me with a warm smile.
I couldn't hold back any longer and ended up completely unloading about the entire situation. Sylvia listened attentively as I fought back tears, describing the nonstop harassment I'd been facing.
Her gaze was intense but comforting. She was remarkably empathetic and understanding. Sharing my feelings with her felt like unburdening my soul: something I desperately needed. Mark did the best he could, but he never fully grasped the unique struggles of being a woman in the tech industry.
