#YESALLWOMEN

I’ve kept this story mostly to myself for a long time. I can think of 2, maybe 3 people I’ve told it to, because it felt far too personal, and brought up a lot of feelings I wasn’t ready to face. But, given the events of this past weekend out of UCSB, and the events that just seem to keep happening all around the world, I felt like maybe it was time to share it. So, here goes:

When I was in my early 20s, I lived in a 2 bedroom house with 2 other women, and I worked the graveyard shift as a baker at a coffee shop. Yes, probably the one you’re thinking of. One morning, my roommates asked me if they could throw a party that evening. I had just finished 5 night shifts in a row, and was incredibly tired, and knowing I was about to have a night off, planned to stay awake so I could sleep like a regular human that night. I wanted to say no. I hated parties on a good day, especially when they were happening in my house, and the idea of having to entertain a bunch of loud, drunken strangers while being dead on my feet held no appeal for me whatsoever. But I said yes. I wanted to keep harmony in the house, and I figured I could be social for an hour or so, and then quietly sneak away to my bed, and nobody would even notice.

I was wrong.

By the time evening rolled around, and people started arriving, I was barely awake. I was the kind of tired that made “What’s your name?” seem like an advanced algebra question. I was the kind of tired that meant when someone asked “Where’s your boyfriend tonight?”, I actually forgot for a minute that I even had a boyfriend.

At one point, I was leaning against the kitchen sink, drinking a glass of water, when a fairly attractive man I had never met before (let’s call him Carl), came up and started chatting with me. From what I can remember, I was friendly, pleasant, and probably even a little flirty. But I was also really, really tired. So I told him that. I told him it was nice to meet him, and on any other day I would love to stay and talk to him, but that I needed sleep before I decided to curl up and nap under the kitchen table.

When I got to my room, I didn’t even bother turning on the lights or getting undressed. I did have the forethought to lock my bedroom door, but forgot to check to see if the door leading to my ensuite bathroom, which also had a door leading out to the living room, was locked. Instead, I just climbed into bed and was asleep within seconds.

Some time later (I’m not entirely sure how long), the door leading to the bathroom opened, and Carl came into my bedroom. I heard him ask me if I was awake, and since I was the kind of awake where technically I could hear him, but wasn’t sure if I was dreaming him, or even what year it was, I just mumbled something. That must have sounded like “Sure, come on in” to Carl, because he did.

He lied down next to me on the bed, and said he just wanted a quiet place to get away for a bit, and maybe to chat with me, too. Again, I mumbled something. This must have sounded like “Please kiss me” to Carl, because he did.

I didn’t kiss back. I didn’t even open my eyes. I was barely even awake.

I heard him unzip his jeans.

I felt him unzip mine.

I felt his penis when he took my hand and started stroking himself with it.

I felt his hand when he stuck it in my underwear and started stroking me.

I was awake then. I was terrified. I was frozen.

This continued for a few minutes (it was hard to tell how long, but felt like forever), until my bedroom door opened, and another man stuck his head in. My mind told me two things: “Oh, god, this is so embarrassing.”, and “Now this man will make Carl stop”.

Instead, he only said “Carl, finish up what you’re doing. We’re leaving.”, and then he closed the door and left.

Carl took his hand out of my pants, zipped up his, kissed me on the lips, said “It was great meeting you”, and left.

I did nothing but get up and lock the door behind him. I then sat in the dark and listened to the party happening on the other side of the door.

I never saw Carl again.

But it didn’t end there.

I told my boyfriend what had happened, and instead of getting angry, and demanding to know every little detail about Carl and how to find him, he instead got angry at me and said he “knew how I was”, and that I probably gave him the wrong idea by flirting with him.

He didn’t stay my boyfriend much longer.

For a long time I tried to forget that night. I told myself “He didn’t rape me. Nothing really even happened. Worse things happen to women all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

But it is a big deal. And I haven’t been able to forget it.

Carl sexually assaulted me, and had his friend not walked in, I can only assume he would have raped me, too. And not only did he not think anything was wrong with that, but my own boyfriend didn’t think so, either. The even sadder thing is that there are hundreds, thousands, millions of women with stories like mine, or even worse.

Some may say “You should have locked the door”, or “You should have told him no, instead of mumbling”, and for a long time I thought that myself. But it wasn’t my fault. I said goodnight to Carl, and that should have been the end of it. Everything after that was because he felt entitled, and he didn’t really care about my feelings at all. He thought what he was doing was okay.

And there are still men who feel that way. And it doesn’t look like it’s getting any better. We’re taught not to walk alone at night. We’re taught to defend ourselves. We’re taught to ignore harassment on the streets. We’re taught that men can’t be trusted.

And sadly, until men are taught to keep their hands, penises, and misogynistic thoughts to themselves, they can’t.

If you disagree with me, check out the #YesAllWomen hashtag on Twitter. If you still disagree with me, then maybe you’re part of the problem.

I now have some truly amazing, women-loving, respectful, decent men in my life, and men like Carl, and Elliot Rodgers, and countless others, make me so incredibly grateful for them. I won’t forget that. But hopefully, someday soon, things will change, and I’ll be able to forget Carl.

But until then, I will always double check the locks.