Trigger Warning: themes of sexual assault
Once upon a time, I was sexually assaulted by two men in the same night (in the same house). It was the nineties, and I had internalized the idea that I was asking for it: getting drunk and flirting with men, initially responding, wearing something sexy (jeans and a tee shirt? Okay).
I had this friend growing up (who is still a ride-or-die) who had this talent for being invited to amazing parties and knowing just the right people in the right places. We had (and still have) some stellar adventures. This time, she was dating someone who was a sushi chef at a posh place, so of course we showed up for free sushi and literally all the sake we could drink. Later on, we met at the dude’s place, which he shared with a co-worker. When I was young, I didn’t know any other way of relating to men than to flirt with them. It really doesn’t matter whether it was intentional or not, I was not asking for what happened later.
We had some more drinks at their place, of course, and probably played strip poker or truth or dare, or some other “drinking game” designed to get one naked and vulnerable. Eventually, my friend and her bf went to his bedroom and I was left alone (also half-naked and drunk) with the roommate. The details are fuzzy here. I assume he made advances, which I politely (or not so politely) declined. I ended up going to her boyfriend’s room. The general consensus re: the roommate was, “he’s drunk, he’ll feel terrible about this in the morning.” We all went to sleep in his big bed. What seemed like minutes later, I woke up to the bf kissing and touching me. My body had responded before I was completely awake, but when I realized what was happening, I told him to stop, which he did. My friend was asleep, he asked me not to tell her. I went to go sleep on the couch. I woke up to the roommate touching me… Again!
As drunk as I still was, I felt tremendously unsafe in this place. My fight or flight response kicked in and I had to go home. I was a good thirty minute drive from my home and I had to cover one eye so I could see. I don’t know how I didn’t harm someone else or myself, or get pulled over that night.
I told my friend about what happened. She believed me, but there was nothing else to do. Her relationship with that guy eventually fizzled, so I never saw the roommate again. I can’t even remember his name. But what I recall most from this incident is that BOTH men in this story felt entitled to take what they wanted from me. Both women in the story felt powerless to do anything about it. This was during the Clinton administration. Our own president came all over somebody’s dress and then denied having sex with that woman. That woman was demonized and made fun of, every part of her personal life trotted out for all the world to see, while the perpetrator of this abuse of power came off relatively unscathed. His wife continued to support him because being a divorced politician is somehow worse than allowing a man to suffer consequences for his actions.
Things have gotten better since #metoo and some people are facing consequences for decades of manipulative sexual behavior. But the system that allowed the good-ole-boys-club to close ranks and protect each other still controls us.
Will I ever be able to live free?
#sexualassault #manipulation #privilege #maleprivilege #consequences #drunk #naked #safe #recovery #believethevictim
happinessinavacuum 