Pinned Under the Bodies of Men
I thought being sexually bold was a game I was allowed to play. I had no idea of the punishment that awaited me — or the surprising healing to come.
- Resisting Unwanted Advances: A brave account of standing up against unwanted advances and inappropriate behavior, even in the face of pressure, showing the importance of setting boundaries.
- A Journey of Healing: An individual's courageous exploration of their past trauma, revealing the unexpected path towards healing and self-discovery.
- Unchosen Initiation: A gripping account of a young person's summer marked by a traumatic introduction to the world of sexual
- The Power of Speaking Out: An exploration of how sharing personal experiences can be a catalyst for change, as one person opens up about their past, shedding light on the
In this article, the author reflects on their past experiences, sharing how they once believed that being sexually confident was something they could freely embrace. Little did they know the challenges that lay ahead, including an unexpected journey of healing. The second incident occurred when they were 23 years old, in a hostel in Poland. It was there that they unintentionally triggered a man’s anger by declining his invitation for a drink.
During one fateful night, he sought me out in the mixed dorm room of the hostel. He loomed over me and hissed, “I waited for you.”
The first incident happened when I was just 19, recovering from a fractured hip due to rollerblading. It marked the summer when I was involuntarily initiated into the world of sexual experiences. He was four years older than me, and we had met during Thanksgiving break. He would visit me in the hospital during after-hours, his hands finding their way under my hospital gown. Despite the fear and nausea that stiffened me, the novelty of this touch was undeniably intriguing, causing my body to react in ways he likely mistook for desire. That summer, he took away many of my firsts.
On another occasion, at his place, I remember glancing at my crutches, silent witnesses in the corner of the room, as he pinned me to his bed. I whispered for him to stop, shifting to protect my injured hip. In the end, he didn’t rape me, but I had been no fun, a killjoy. He wore a smile when my parents picked me up.
