He was 6’4”. I’m not.
He weighed 250. I don’t.
He was a college professor, I a student.
He molested me. I came away feeling lucky to be alive.
It could have been so much worse, I kept telling myself. In my mind then the yardstick for sexual assault was rape, not someone pinning you against a wall and thrusting his hand down your pants.
When people say they would not put up with the “inappropriate behavior,” of someone invading their personal space, I can only assume they have never been put in such a position.
For years I felt I was somehow guilty of the incident.
Overnight, I went from a trusting young woman to what I considered “damaged goods.” It took a long time for me to realize this professor was a sexual predator taking advantage of my innocence.
I regret not reporting him to authorities, but at the time I was so humiliated, and scared, that all I wanted was to become invisible.
ON TUESDAY afternoon I met with Dorothy Sparks and Michelle Meiwes of Hope Unlimited to do a story on the significance of October being Domestic Violence Awareness Month.
Seated around the table, they told me of the many ways they help men, women and children not only cope, but also escape, the many forms of abuse, including sexual, verbal and financial.
In the friendly confines of their office, I briefly told of my own experience of 40 years ago. And while their support was welcome, some other, harder, truths became evident. I was just a notch in that man’s belt. Another “conquest,” that I’m sure he never gave a second thought to.
So when Donald Trump, the Republican nominee for president, so casually discounts the allegations of sexual assault by now nine women, that’s troubling.
Instead of saying, “Believe me, I could do better,” in reference to what he considers their lacking physical appearance, Trump should be saying that harassment of this nature is unacceptable.
