Writing this is like peeling back a can of sardines. You risk getting cut, sometimes just give up, and often just pry it up as far as possible and rip out the contents. At least I do.
After it happened to me, I didn’t tell anybody because I assumed it was all my fault and I felt like such a fool. I thought I had put it out of my mind, but with the Weinstein disclosures, I experienced several days of minor PTSD. I couldn’t put my head on my pillow without replaying it and this happened more than 55 years ago!
I was 20 or 21 and an undergrad at the University of Illinois. My roommate was having an affair with a professor. He had a friend in town visiting and they asked me to join the three of them for dinner. I knew the man was married. I think I thought that it was sophisticated to have dinner with a married man.
The man was in his 30s, nice looking, I think, but I don’t remember his face. He was dressed like a businessman.
I can’t remember much about the dinner, but my roommate went home with her boyfriend and the man said he’d take me back to the dorm. Instead he drove me to his motel. He asked me to come in and talk for a while. Why did I do this? My guess is that I had an internal “hook” — not a part in a movie, but perhaps he told me I was bright and interesting.
Anyway we talked awhile and then he stood up with his back to me and literally dropped his pants. I was dumbfounded. He turned around, fully engaged, and was on me.
I can’t bring myself to use the “r” word in relation to myself, but I’m sure he did not succeed. The thing is, I can’t remember what I did to stop him, except saying “no” over and over, and I can’t remember how I got back to the dorm.
I do remember that he asked me to look at pictures of his kids.
I didn’t tell my roommate because I thought she’d make fun of me, and I didn’t tell anybody else until a few weeks ago.
Why now? Two reasons:
One, things are finally changing for women, and men are being forced to be accountable for their actions. Of course this man is probably dead or a great-grandfather.
Two, a lot of men are not changing. And women are still being hurt by their own “hooks.”Â
Sure, it’s fun to be invited to a fraternity party, but please, please, please, don’t get drunk and go upstairs to a bedroom.Â
It’s still too dangerous.