Many years ago, my husband and I invited a close female family member to join us in a night out, dinner at the Royal York Hotel’s Benihana, limo ride included.
Dinner was delicious and the chefs were entertaining. We added a quick stop at a local bar to top off the evening. Over several hours, the drinks flowed for the two of them. I, rarely indulgent, watched amused as they seemingly tried to outdrink each other. Given Mark’s history with alcohol, it was perhaps somewhat of a monumental task for a 24-year old female.
Back in the limo, the evening went sideways. My husband sat in the middle of the back seat; I chose to sit across from him. Since our companion lived only a few blocks away, it made more sense to leave her closest to the door.
She climbed in and plunked herself down beside him. Immediately, she began groping his crotch and trying to lick his neck. Astonished, he looked at me, peeled her off and settled her beside him, putting his arm around her to keep her steady but also to protect himself from further advances. We accompanied her to her apartment and ensured she was safe and settled inside before driving away.
At the time, in my early 30’s, I chocked it up to a night of drinking and rarely thought of it again.
More recently, watching public reaction on social media to addiction-related events, I recalled that night and gave it more consideration.
It started in June 2023, when Supreme Court Justice Russell Brown was accused of unwanted touching and harassment while intoxicated after speaking at a luxury resort in Scottsdale Arizona. His offences appeared less egregious than what had happened to me that night so many years ago.
The Supreme Court of Canada acted quickly and placed Justice Brown on paid leave. The courts have often admonished employers for failing to accommodate disabilities and governments for making services conditional, also historically protected privacy rights in cases of random alcohol and drug testing. When one of its own was seemingly revealed to have alcohol-related issues, they remained silent. Shortly thereafter Justice Brown refuted the allegations but chose to retire rather than face a Canadian Judicial Council investigation of what happened that night.
Regardless of his rebuttal of the accusations, public outcry was swift and ferocious. The media had a field day. Haters expressing disgust proliferated on social media. People who drink too much and misbehave were irrefutably abhorred.
My opinion was that regrettably there is an alcohol problem there, that it wasn’t just one night of overindulgence. But I kept asking myself, had my reaction to my own situation been okay?
More recently, vote-seeking politicians have chosen to amplify public intolerance for unhoused persons, using examples of behavior fuelled by addiction to gain support. Media articles ungraciously cover every dehumanizing statement with horrendous photos of vulnerable individuals, inferring their plight is self-inflicted and not a disease.
And once again, vaulted to the forefront of election ballot issues, addiction is vile, a choice, a lifestyle, a character flaw. The Conservative Party of Canada wants to jail people with a disease that the Canadian Human Rights Act confirms is a disability, threatening to use the notwithstanding clause in response to Charter challenges.
I struggle with the negative reactions and sanctimonious, uninformed judgment on social media. Public hate and perception of alcohol addiction fuelled the medically-unsubstantiated policy that killed my husband.
At the same time, I don’t believe we can excuse every bad behavior by saying, “Oh, they had too much to drink.” There has to be a line.
The media frenzy over the past year has opened my eyes and left me with so many questions. I couldn’t stay silent.
I finally confronted the family member who jumped my husband that night. She flatly denied having any clue what I was talking about.
I had said nothing for 30 years. Did I do her a disservice in not confronting her about her actions for so long? What if she is truthfully unaware that she suffers blackouts when drinking? Has she done anything like that to someone else?
If a man had acted the same way, he could be charged with sexual assault. Are her actions less offensive because she was a smaller woman physically attacking a much larger man?
What if I hadn’t been there that night and Mark had no morals? Is her behavior unimportant because nothing happened? Should I just chalk it up to bad behavior influenced by alcohol?
In her case, there is no addiction. To my knowledge, she has never relied on alcohol to relieve the stress of her career or to sooth emotional trauma. Are her actions less offensive because she isn’t one of “those people”? Or are they worse, because she can’t hide them behind the entrapment of a crippling disease?
All those questions remain. But, one thing remains clear. Whether anything happened that night does not matter. The intent was there.
And that is what I struggle to forgive.
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