I was working abroad in a very small town in the middle of nowhere. I was clearly a stranger there, so I made an effort to adapt and interact with the local people. That meant that after work, I regularly hung out at a local bar. After some months I had built up some nice friendly relations, and when I was about to finish my project I gave a little goodbye/thank you party at that bar. We danced and had a blast. However, acquaintances insisted on offering me drinks, and acted insulted if I did not take it, so I ended up fairly drunk. The bartender (who I had come to appreciate) started to flirt with me, and when he stole a kiss I did not really mind. When he tried again later I kissed back, and at that point all seemed casual and cheery. It got later, and when I went to the hotel (just down the street) to sleep, I found the gate closed and could not reach anyone there, so I went back. A woman told me not to worry one bit, I could just sleep at the bar and the bartender would lock up, not leave me, and keep me safe. This was not ideal, but I trusted this woman because I had been working closely with her every day there for months, and I also knew the bartender as a kind and modest guy. When we were left alone in the now empty bar, he was flirting again and I said that I just wanted to sleep. He persisted, now saying that he wanted to cuddle, and then went on expressing how he would love to touch me, be inside me, even if just for a little bit. I said no and no and no. He confused me so much, because he was smiling, talking with a friendly voice. In fact he was saying how he would ‘keep me safe’, and at the same time he was not listening to me. I can still feel angry at myself for reacting so ‘mildly’ (repeating that I did not want to cuddle with him or have sex with him, saying ‘no’ to all he said), but I quickly felt so dismissed and insignificant that I was simply frozen. He went on about how important it is ‘to be safe’ and got a condom. I felt so deeply invalidated that I zoned out: reducing everything that was happening to molecules moving insignificantly in a vast universe. He took my pants off, he put a condom on and went in. I did not / could not move and I gather it was all a bit disappointing for him: fairly quickly he was done, I don’t know if he came. I was able to put my pants on again. He laid down on the other end of the bench, and fell asleep. All felt so surreal, and I slept too. In the morning I did not make a fuss and went to the hotel. I was confused about what had happened. In the hotel I realized that I still had a tampon in, it had been pushed to the side. Still I could not believe that I had been raped that night. I could not accept that I would have let that happen to me, I would have fought… I had enjoyed the flirtations of this man before—which I felt terribly guilty about because I actually had a boyfriend back home and although that relationship was on the rocks we had not broken up yet. However, I was more willing to accept my ‘cheating’ than my invalidation. I ‘took control back’ by sleeping several more times with this bartender. I pushed what had happened that night away deeply, and hung out with this man until I left. I dealt with the guilt of cheating before I could face the trauma of feeling entirely powerless. I was blaming myself a lot, more than I blamed him. I should have avoided this situation—but such a situation should never arise in the first place. It took a long time to come to some understanding of what had happened, and to not blame myself as much. It bothered me that I was quite sure he was oblivious to how he had made me feel back then, fooling himself with his self-image of being a good guy, and not giving all this a second thought. Several years after it happened, I was in the same region again for work. I met him, and we talked about it. As expected, he was quite oblivious indeed, but he took me seriously and he apologized. I am glad about that, but it did and could not make things right.
