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Anatomy of a Sexual Assault
What happened, exactly?
Whenever I read about sexual assault, I always used to wonder what exactly happened. Those words, “sexual assault” cover such a lot of things. I always wanted to know:
“Was it really that bad?”
Or maybe what I really wanted to know is “was talking about it aloud really worth all this mess?”
Because I’m always curious exactly what people mean by sexual assault, I’ll tell you exactly what happened to me when I was sexually assaulted in the summer of 2016.
The obvious content warnings apply.
We were on my bed and we were fooling around. I’d told him earlier in the evening that I wouldn’t have sex with him until after he got tested for STDs. Yes, even if we use a condom, yes, even if he was sure he was clean, yes, even if he’d taken a broad-spectrum anti-viral after a recent trip to a tropical country. If he was cool with fooling around and not having actual penetrative sex, he could come over.
He was fun enough, but he was pushy, and that annoyed me. It was getting late and we both had to work the next day. I pulled away from him and flopped onto my belly.
