A dude at a friend’s party told me once that “all women are crazy”. His pregnant wife was in the same room. The only time I have worn a dress above the knee in the last decade, I was roofied at a bar. My male band mates thought I was drunk and took me back to my hotel room. I woke up with no memory of how I made it to my hotel room. I tried to drink water but I kept pucking it up. I was really freaked out. I couldn’t drive my car home and my check-out time was soon, but none of band mates believed me when I told them I had been drugged and they left me at the hotel. I finally called a nearby female friend, who, no questions asked grabbed her husband and 1-year-old son and picked me and my car up. The next week, one of my band members went off via our group text about how drunk I was and tried to discredit the story I told to the police. I felt so uncomfortable after that, I left the group. To this day, when I tell people what happened, I still get, “but nothing happened, right?”