I don’t actually know if this would count as sexual assault or not to be honest. I actually blame myself for a million reasons for ending up in this situation. With the #metoo movement that is sweeping social media right now, I have been thinking about this a lot every time I see someone post it. The truth is I have been in more than several situations that I would consider to be ify situations. I am not a normal person in the way that I think and reason things. I am way way out there on a lot of things, I know. Since I am aware of that fact sometimes it is difficult for me to know for sure weather something is as it seems or not. With that said, here goes;
It was roughly 20 years ago. I was good friends with this girl I knew from high school. I was actually close with her whole family. I loved these people. Her younger brother had a best friend named Pete who seemed like a pretty nice guy. I was alone with Pete one night and he started kissing me and tried to take it further and I stopped him and said no. No big deal, I long since forgot about it. I continued to run into him at those family gatherings, no issue.
Then one night it was my best friends birthday celebration and also my girlfriends brothers wedding. I figured I would just go to the wedding first and meet up for my best friends birthday party after. I left the wedding with my friends brother and his friend. We dropped the brother off at home first and the brother was asking Pete if he wants “it” or not. I had no idea what they were talking about and didn’t ask. The brother went in the house to get “it” and came back out with some kind of bag?? I really didn’t know what was going on, it did seem kind of odd but I wasn’t all that interested.
We had been drinking and smoking weed (this is where I blame myself) and we were having a good time. Pete asked if I wanted to go down to the river and smoke a bowl before I go. I said yes and we proceeded to the river. It was a beautiful night and we were lit. He started kissing me again. Then he asked me to grab his jacket and reach into the pocket. I figured he wanted something from the pocket. When I reached in, I felt a gun. I was high and immediately felt very afraid. I couldn’t imagine why he would want me to know he had a gun. Then I flashed back to the last time we had kissed and I stopped him (enter the second reason I felt really stupid).
It was a beautiful balmy night. The reflection of the streetlamps and office lights glistened on the gently rippling river. I was still high from the festivities of the wedding and I was excited to be going to my besties birthday party. Now I am all alone in a car in a secluded area that I had always used as my serenity place of bliss. I looked up at him when I felt his gun and he was looking me dead in the eyes with a smirk on his face. I could feel the peaceful feeling I had drain from my face. I asked him if that was a gun (as if it wasn’t painfully obvious). He confirmed that it was and I knew that I was in trouble. I am not one to panic usually, I am pretty good in fact at keeping a calm head in moments of extreme stress. I felt the need to make a split second decision that would potentially effect the rest of my life. I knew that I could either freak out and become a victim and deal with the effects of that night for God knows how long or I could immediately split the emotions from the act and just have sex with him and turn it into a “fun” moment so that I could proceed with life normally. I opted for the ladder.
The thing is that I wasn’t above having casual sex like that back then. I did have the ability to separate the emotions from the act. The problem was that I just never thought of him in any way sexual. The minute he had started kissing me I felt really stupid again for allowing myself to be put into this situation once more. There is no denying my part in allowing myself to be put into this situation. I was planning on stopping him and saying no again to him. I also think he anticipated that and that is why he asked me to reach into his jacket pocket. H never asked me for anything from there. I felt like he just wanted me to know that it was there. Why on earth would he want me to know that, especially in that moment?
I never dwell on that night. I do go back to it from time to time. I think about it. I never consider myself a victim. I made a choice in that moment to never allow myself to feel that way. But after seeing one of those #metoo videos today, I began to cry and think back to that night. There is no other moment in my life where the sex I had with someone brings me to tears.
I never made it to my friends party that night. I knew how hurt she was going to be by that. I just told her that I hooked up with him. I made it look like it was a choice. I have never told anybody about the gun that night. Ever. I wonder if it did end up effecting me in more subtle ways throughout life. I never link things back to that. I made a choice not to. I do know that if my daughter ever came home and told me something like that happened to her, I would be pissed and prob try to take her to the police.
If anyone reads this, please let me know your thoughts on this.