Faith- Not another #metoo post

If you don’t do Facebook and are not sure what #metoo is, let me catch you up. There’s a social media campaign that was started by a woman after this whole Hollywood director sexual abuse allegation thing that was meant to bring attention about the amount of people (read:women) who have been sexually assaulted or harassed.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a woman, if I’m too much into media, or what, but I thought that this was an already well known thing.

I was really annoyed by this whole thing. I feel like it was a bunch of people making themselves feel better because they spoke up about something. Yes, you can call me insensitive, but really a social media confessional campaign won’t fundamentally fix anything. We need better families. Better values as a country. Better men. I digress.

I have had a few negative experiences with men. (I have also had a few negative experiences with women.)

I was working on an engineering project and I went to the hardware store with my project partner who was a male. The sales attendant paid no attention to me and only paid attention to my partner.

This campaign happened at the beginning of last week. In the middle of last week, I had a first date. A very, very bad first date. Not like the awkward date. Not a ghosting date. A wouldn’t take no for an answer date.

We were sitting on the couch in my living room cuddling. He started putting his hands places that I didn’t want them. I told him to stop. Instead of removing his hands, he stopped rubbing and didn’t remove his hands. I said, “please stop”, and he replied “I did”. Oh, sorry, should’ve clarified. *sarcasm*. I should’ve ended it there. I wish I could’ve said I ended it there and made him leave. I wish I was better than I was. In my world of loneliness and longing, I didn’t.

He repeatedly asked to go upstairs to my room. I repeatedly said no. He started to unbuckle his belt and un button his pants. Eventually, he lifted the blanket we were under and pushed my head under neath.

I said no and promptly removed myself from under there. I wish I told him to go home at that point. I wish I followed brain and not my body and told him to leave. To be strong enough to tell him to leave. Instead I let him stay until it was late enough to use bedtime as an excuse and he left.

And I wish I could tell you I unmatched him on our dating app after that. I wish I could tell you I wasn’t so lonely that I was convinced after that to never talk to him again.

But I wasn’t. I ended up saying something that upset him quickly and he unmatched me.

After this date I felt everything. Mad that he unmatched me. Mad that I let it get there. Mad I didn’t say no earlier. Mad I didn’t see it coming. Sad that I feel so desperate. Sad that I now have to go on another first date. Determined to do it differently next time. Determined to vet earlier.

Guilty for what I did end up doing. Like I let down all the women who I’ve told to stand up for themselves, because I couldn’t do it myself.

It was weird timing. I’m not sure why it happened at this point, right when the #metoo thing was happening. The obvious answer is to teach me a lesson about empathy.

I’ve been very discouraged about dating since.

That’s only two of my #metoo stories. We have a long way to go for our society to no longer have them.

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