Thursday, 14 July 2016

The One With The Lack Of Consent? (28 months + 3 days)

If this post is slightly disjointed; forgive me. 

This evening, Thursday 14th July, I was supposed to be going for a drink with the local members of the Liberal Democrat party. It was a bit of like a "meet-and-greet" for new members to get to say hi to everyone and get to know others involved with the party. I was really excited about it. Nervous, but excited.

Today started with a much appreciated 5am wake up call from Piglet (these are becoming evermore the norm). Piglet soon settled back to sleep (diddy related issues- you can leave four in her cot and she still somehow manages to lose them all), however I was wide awake.

I had a productive morning. Insanity (almost onto recovery week! WOOOO!), lots of cleaning, immaculate hair and make up (this is a rarity- I was impressed with myself), and a cheeky bit of book writing, (pre-order it HERE HERE HERE), before re-awakening the baby and getting her ready for the day. We were meeting NNB at 10am as he was getting the keys for his new flat today and had asked for our help in moving some of the things over, and then afterwards we were going to have brunch.

It was actually a really lovely morning. NNB's new flat is ridiculous; it's got 570376057052 rooms, 19 floors, and enough space for a family of 542. Excessive is an understatement (Part of me is a teeny tiny bit jealous. Part of me remembers how hellish it was to live with him, and I do not envy having to clean that place). Brunch was equally pleasant. Several comical things happened. But they're not relevant here. 

The builder was coming round in the afternoon to do some more work to the bathroom and drop off a TV stand for me. He called just after brunch to check times and things, and said he'd pop round between 3:30-4:00pm. Piglet and I helped NNB move a few more things, and then went home to wait for the builder. Wiggle worked on her own building skills with her duplo whilst I continued with book writing (I'm really enjoying it at the moment actually. It's been really interesting revisiting everything, and reflecting upon things).

3:30 arrived- no sign of builder. 4:00 arrived- still no sign of builder. To be honest, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't turn up. When I first met the builder, I really liked him. I thought he was really nice. And then things started to take a turn for the weird. So, I've already mentioned the offer of topless bar work (could just be genuinely trying to help?). He was also the person who mentioned that he could put me in touch with someone about escorting. 

Should have been seeing red flags at this point, maybe? He talked about it quite a bit, actually. How much you can make, how it's easy money, everyone does it, really safe, really simple to do, really flexible.... Honestly, as a salesman, builder is pretty good. I'd said in my previous post I was contemplating it. 

Things get a little bit weirder. So, the last time he'd been round, when he left he asked if he could give me a hug. Which I thought was a bit odd, but ok? Like yeah, sure. Mates. Hugs. Whatever. At which point, he lifted my top to look at my stomach, and was like "oh my god, you're so skinny, I'm going to break you!" Again. Weird. But right. Some boundary issues there. No touching in future. Got it. 

When he called me yesterday (a phone call which lasted almost an hour btw....) he got really inappropriate on the escorting front. I said I still wasn't sure. He started asking really intrusive personal questions. Would I be happy to do x,y,z? He said they might need me to prove I can do it by sending some "nude photos"- he would be happy to pass them along for me, or even to take them.

Yesterday freaked me out. So yeah, I was hoping that he wouldn't turn up.

At 4:20pm he called me. And said he was running a bit late, and would be there at 5pm. Maybe I should have put him off. But he'd said the job would only take 2 minutes, so I figured I would have plenty of time to make it for my drink with the lib dems.

The job did take 2 minutes, he was right about that. However the time he spent at my flat was over an hour and a half. 

If I tell you that the builder kissed me, would you be surprised? Would you be shocked? Would you be angry?

What if I told you that I repeatedly said no, and tried to push him away, and he continued to do so?

What if I was a bit more descriptive in my language? "Kissed" can be considered quite vague I suppose.

The builder stuck his tongue down my throat whilst pushing himself against me, grabbing my arse, pulling my top up and putting his hand into my bra. Repeatedly. And I said no. Repeatedly.

And I froze. I was scared. He's a lot older than me. He's a lot bigger than me. I was alone with Piglet. Every  time I said no he just said to stop being silly. I wanted him to leave. I just wanted him to stop touching me and get out. 

It's my fault really, I suppose. I had liked him as a person- maybe this had been misconstrued? I clearly wasn't assertive enough- maybe I should have screamed, maybe I should have shouted, maybe I should have told him to get out. But I didn't, I froze.

I kept telling him I had to go and check on Piglet, and he kept saying he could see her, she was fine. I had to get her more milk, I said; I needed to make her tea; I needed to do x,y,z. Eventually he left. And he called me within two minutes of driving away to "thank me for a wonderful evening".

"I'd had a really stressful day, and it was just what I needed. I'm sure I've passed a lot of that stress onto you now though"

That phrase to me, insinuates that he knew I didn't want to. He knew I wasn't being playful, he knew I meant no. Irregardless of tone, no SHOULD mean no. But I didn't have a playful tone anyway, I was saying no. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing all along. He's been sending me texts all evening. I've ignored them. He said he wants to take me to dinner this Saturday; he wants to take me away for a weekend to go shopping. Maybe he doesn't think anything is wrong. 

This is not the first occasion that I have been touched without giving consent; nor is it the most serious of these occasions. In fact, it's one of the milder instances. It's probably been the most sobering though. I've never felt so much like a child in my adult life. 

I feel guilty. I feel ashamed. I feel like I have been groomed, for want of a better term. And I feel that it was my fault. I haven't even mentioned that he's married yet, have I? I am no escort. I am no sugar baby. I feel dirty and I feel cheap. And I am reminded that I am in a very vulnerable position right now; irregardless of how many times I say "I am a strong, independent woman".

I almost ate 15 cookies this evening. But I stopped myself. Always look for the positives.

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