*Trigger Warning*
It is an unfortunate reality that women, especially female college students, have to be particularly cautious when it comes to hanging out with men. Even if you do your “due diligence” by only hanging out with men you know, not going to unfamiliar places, and doing your best not to send “mixed signals”, more often than not, when you arrive, the guy you’re hanging out with already assumes you are going to have sex. At best, you leave having endured an awkward situation, and at worst, your safety is compromised, and you find yourself in real life danger. As much as I’d love to detail my many experiences sitting in an LED strip-illuminated room forced to watch Rick and Morty while waiting to reject the inevitable prompt to hook up, I think it’d be more meaningful to share my story of the latter situation, the first time I found myself confronting serious danger.
My freshman year, I took an intro to poetry course. There was a senior that sat behind me that occasionally talked to me. The conversations were innocent enough. He’d ask me if we had homework due that day, if I had a pen, etc.. He was a typical slacker, but he seemed harmless, so I accepted his invitation to hang out one night at his house.
I’ll confess that at the time, I needed a “pro smoking” environment, and as a freshman, I didn’t know anyone else that lived in a house. I went over and began smoking as he drank. We had decent, platonic conversations. At this point, he had not made any move outwardly hitting on me, so for once, I thought I was going to be able to hang out with a guy in the context of friendship. Ha.
As he drank more, he prompted me to go in his room. Like I said, he hadn’t said anything inappropriate, so I had no real defense to not go. I intentionally went for the office chair next to his bed, showing that I was comfortable distancing myself. I’ve done this many times before and since, and rarely are your cues acknowledged.
After about a half hour, the inevitable creeping began. He started mentioning weird, oddly specific details that he noticed about me, like that my one shoe was always untied and that I always wore sweats to class. Ok, brother.
What started as off-color quickly took a turn for the worse. He told me that I should get on his bed. I calmly told him that I was comfortable where I was at. He said it again, this time with a little more assertiveness. This time I just said “uh, no”, and before I could react, his hands grabbed my wrists as he began pulling me towards his bed, saying nothing.
I just want to take a minute to describe the fear I felt in this moment. Often, when we are afraid, we are anticipating the potential of danger. You are afraid walking home on an unlit street because of the chance that someone might pop out to grab you. You check behind your shower curtain in case there is an axe-wielding killer behind it. It is a completely different level of terror when the danger is real and in front of you, the knowledge that there is a tangible threat.
I had about half a second to reflect on the fear until instinct and adrenaline took over. I told him, “Okay, let go, and I’ll come over”. He released his grip, still towering over where I was sitting. I stood up to face him, and in one movement I threw my best right-hook to his jaw. I still have the image burned in my mind of the moment my fist made contact with his face. He wasn’t a big guy. It was enough to throw him off as I ran out, but as I was running out, he grabbed me again from behind. Since I figured we were past the point of resolving things diplomatically, I once again threw a hard punch into his face, stunning him yet again and buying me time to run out of his house. I could hear myself uncontrollably whimpering as I ran up the hill to my friend’s dorm.
I’m unsure of what would’ve happened that night had I been unable to defend myself. Luckily, I did not stick around to find out, but if violence hasn’t been your go-to defense since pre-school like me, I can imagine the hesitancy and uncertainty involved in physically defending yourself, especially against a man. It is important to remember that even if you have little experience in self-defense, fighting back will, at the very least, throw them off for a minute or two. I believe even more important than my ability to throw a half decent punch was my commitment to staying calm and thinking clearly. Your strongest weapon is your brain, and if you can convince your attacker that you intend to comply with what they want, you can coerce them into a false sense of comfort. Had I started screaming and immediately trying to break loose, he might’ve been prepared for me to fight back.
One last note, it is your duty to yourself to define your boundaries. As women, we are conditioned to feel insecure and unassured of ourselves, so often, our brains trick us into making excuses or rationalizing on behalf of someone that is harming us. It is better to decide what you do and do not tolerate before you find yourself in a situation where your boundaries may be compromised. I have had experiences with physical fighting in a few of my relationships, so I had it already ingrained that unwanted physical touch was cause for a sock to the face. For those that are less experienced in the realm of physical fights, I strongly recommend considering taking self-defense classes or at least start practicing a few moves from the internet. I also now carry a defense weapon every time I go to meet an unfamiliar guy. A metal water bottle will do if you have nothing else, and it is easy to subtly keep it besides you without raising alarm. Remember, legally, you cannot hit anyone unless they touch you first or you could face assault charges, but if you find yourself being physically attacked, first assess your odds of winning, and, if all looks good, do not hesitate to fight. It is an unfortunate necessity to be able to practice self-defense as a woman today, and, fortunately, I was able to use it to escape a potential danger that I don’t even want to imagine.