I decided to actively and openly talk about what happened to me three weeks ago. Let me tell you the story of how one guy made me question myself as well as my independence.
You know that these kinds of things happen every day. You know. But you never really think of yourself ever falling victim to such a thing. How could you? You’re such a strong person, have great people judging skills, you stand up for yourself day in, day out. I have to disappoint you: this apparently can happen to anyone, anywhere.
I knew I had to write about this thing that happened to me three weeks ago but for the last days I kept postponing actually sitting down, reliving the whole thing and then telling it to whoever might be stumbling upon it.
Now I’m here, sitting outside a cafe in Munich. Still not 100% sure whether I will be able to put it on paper. I feel ashamed right now as I don’t know who’s about to read this, what they might think about me and whether they’d judge me. Could I have prevented it if I was more careful? I know I didn’t do anything wrong. I know it wasn’t my fault. I know I really shouldn’t feel ashamed for it but I can’t change those feelings I have. I know writing about it, putting it into words, will help me. And I know it needs to be published as I’m surely not the only woman on this planet who has experienced what I went through this one night and the following days and nights up until today.
Three weeks ago I went on a blind date with a guy. We went to a bar in Munich and started talking and started to get to know each other. A typical blind date. After the first two drinks in said bar, we went to another one nearby. That’s the last I can remember.
The next thing I know is me gaining conscience again in a car I didn’t recognize and sitting next to a guy I didn’t recognize either. My first thought was that he was probably meant to bring me home as we were driving through my neighbourhood. As we just passed my street and were stopping at a red light I told him that this is where I lived and thanks for the lift, I’m just going to get out here. He told me that no, I am not going anywhere, he’s going to go on the Autobahn now. Panic started and probably loads of adrenalin pumped through my system, I had a very bad feeling. Especially, when he held me back when I wanted to get out (somehow or other). This was all happening within a few seconds. I tried to fight him off but couldn’t at first. Only as I full-heartedly and awakening all the strength I could, punched him in the face and he let go of me to hold his (broken) nose, was I able to get out of the car. The only problem was, exactly at this moment, he started his car right when I was jumping out of it. This left me actually jumping out of a driving car, landing an all fours and with my left knee hitting the kerbside. Now there’s another part I can’t remember, but I must have gotten up and started running, or limping towards home. Now this I remember: he turned up out of the blue again behind me and ran following me. When he caught up with me, he shoved me from behind and I fell again, landing on the ground. He kept insulting me, calling me names, and started to kick the shit out of me (excuse my language) while I was lying there, defenseless. I don’t know what made him stop, but he did eventually and I lay there, on the ground, bleeding, hurting and absolutely helpless.
How I got home after that, I don’t know, I can’t remember. All I know from then on is that I woke up the next morning in my bed, apparently put on my PJs the night before and got myself ready for bed as usual.
Only bit by bit have I remembered those details I just described. When I woke up the next morning, my bed covered in blood stains, my body bruised, being a picture of misery, I didn’t remember anything. The first thing I thought was: wow, I must have been really drunk and fell horrible due to the alcohol-induced loss of coordination.
After I remembered those details I felt even worse for first assuming that it must have been my own mistake, me who brought this upon myself. Why would that be the first thing that comes to my mind?
I’m a confident, independent, modern woman. I’m a serial entrepreneur. I’ve founded 4 startups so far (the latest I’m now convinced than ever will be a success) and sold one. I can take care of myself. I don’t need help from anyone for anything. I can do anything I set my mind to.
This is what I always thought.
This guy made me question myself and my independence. Worse than some bruises and a few wounds, he crushed my soul.
How do you get back to your old self? Can you even? I don’t know.
I know that somehow I need to pick myself up again and get back to the daily routine to find my confidence and optimism again. I will eventually, I’m sure of that. I will not let this one night ruin everything I stand for and stand up for.
I know how hard it is to tell a story like this because it feels like defeat. But if there are more people, and women in particular, out there that aren’t sure whether they should tell their story, I can only advice you as much as this: write about it, talk about it, don’t swallow your experiences and feelings and think that shutting up about it is what will make you strong again.
You don’t have to publish it, but tell your story, even if only to yourself.
If there’s anyone out there who wants to share their story, but privately, don’t hesitate to write me. I will keep it to myself, your secret’s safe with me. But this might help you deal with all the absurd emotions you’re going through after such a thing happened to you.
