While writing this post, I know I will have PTSD flashbacks. I’ll stop several times to gather my thoughts and think of what to say. As I write, I’m listening to “Smarter” by Eisley and several more of their songs. They have a way of calming me. Anyway, this is going to be difficult but I feel it’s worth it to someone that needs to hear this.

Sexual assault can happen anywhere, anytime, and from anyone. It can happen with family members, coworkers, or even strangers. It can happen from someone at any age or gender. There are no set rules.

I remember being at the store once getting a few things. I brought my cat and let him hang out in the car while I ran in. As I was walking out, a man asked what kind of cat he was. I told him he was a Persian and opened the door to get him. I picked my cat up and held him so the man could see. The man started petting him on the head and continued down his back and onto my breast. It wasn’t an accident. The man looked at me as if he wanted me to react. I didn’t. I just got into my car and went home before I made a police report. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt but I couldn’t. I wanted it so badly to be an accident. What had I done to deserve that? I couldn’t shake it.

I’ll never forget what his truck looked like. It was a brown, two-toned eighties style pickup with the lines down the side. Every time I see a truck similar to it, I think of that day and how I felt the moment he touched me inappropriately. I see him look into my eyes as he did it and how helpless and dump I felt. I remember what I was wearing and the texture of the shirt. Nothing was exposed. I was covered head to toe. I wasn’t “asking” for it, as some would assume. That was when I was around twenty years old.

About six months ago at one of my old jobs, I was at work when a man decided it was a good idea to squeeze between me and a stack of pallets. He had two different ways he could have gone around. He could have gone in front of me on the other side of my work station. He could have gone behind the pallet behind me. But no. He rubbed the entire front of his body on my backside.
And not just once. Twice.
I reported it to management and they said he was just being “ignorant” and to report it if it happens again?
Again? Why should it have to happen again? It shouldn’t have even happened that time.
I felt violated and helpless once again. I was shaking and angry that the people that were supposed to protect their employees brushed it off like it was nothing. I left that job soon after that incident.

Most recently, I was minding my own business at a retail store when I saw an older man carrying his wife’s purse. He came to me and decided it was appropriate to grab my arm to get my attention. He then began telling me a joke. He asked, “Do you know the difference between sugar and sweet-n-low?” When I told him that I didn’t, he licked his fingers and tried touching my face. When I dodged, he said, “I’m not going to hurt you.” When I didn’t let him touch my face, he stroked my long hair with his wet fingers and said, “That’s sugar.”
He then said, “And that’s sweet-n-low and touched my bottom.
I won’t go into details about what happened afterwards, but the authorities were contacted.

Since then, I’ve had several flashbacks of brown trucks, men carrying purses, and of the man that rubbed along my backside. I had a nightmare where a man grabbed my finger and started pulling me towards me. No matter how much I fought, he was stronger and I continued to get closer and closer to him. Once I finally got away, I ran as fast as I could. I woke up panicking with the fear that someone was trying to kidnap and rape me.

You don’t have to tolerate sexual abuse in any form, whether it’s from a family member or stranger. If you experience anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, report it to a trusted adult or authority ASAP. Realize that this type of behavior is uncalled for and isn’t normal. Take care of yourself.