WHEN I JOINED the Royal Barbados Police Force, I did not perceive that it was a given that as a female I should:
l decide that the few men in the organization were better as romantic or sexual partners than the tens of thousands in wider society and pursue one or more of them;
l think that all the men in uniform were more attractive than the rest of men in society just because they wore the uniform;
l be overcome with passion for any or many of them;
l be so blind that I wouldn’t be able to distinguish between a suitable man and an old man just because he was a police and believed in his own importance;
l decide that promotion and placement in specific areas was award for clandestine/predatory sexual encounters;
l make a mockery of a good man by cuckolding him with a man in uniform;
l allow an old man to pay me to pretend that he was still the man he never was;
l go with the flow and accept inappropriate flirting, actions and comments;
l join the others who were stupid enough to mess up their lives by doing so;
l be so psychologically damaged that after respectfully regarding an elderly policeman as a father figure that I would sacrifice my self-worth and respect to have sex with him.
I did not perceive that esprit de corps for women in the organization meant that disrespect, denigration and subjugation were to be their lot without complaint. I did not perceive that I was to come looking for boyfriends, husbands or just senseless sex.
