Casual Assault

I need to tell someone, because I'm so frustrated. I'm frustrated that men are so predictable. I'm frustrated that the voice in the back of my head isn't paranoid, but super-human intuitive. I'm frustrated that this shit is still happening.

A client [who, sidenote, has kids and a long-time girlfriend] stops by tonight. I am drinking a glass of wine, and ask if he wants one. He accepts, and we hang out, watching music videos, shooting the shit. I'm enjoying getting to know this friend-of-a-friend, having a conversation and experience with someone new.

At some point my road flare senses go off because there is a man in my house that I don't know very well, and something is not quite right. I can't put my finger on it - it's just a feeling based on a lifetime of experiences with men who take a mile when I've extended an inch.

We come inside from smoking a cigarette and he sits on the couch with me, instead of the chair where he started. Conveniently, the conversation lands on how dudes can be creepy, and I start dropping gems like "can't people just hang out together without worrying about unsolicited come-on's?". He reciprocates with stories of protecting a woman at work who has a creepy stalker. His words say one thing, and his body language has the flares sending up smoke signals.

He leans in.

"Nope!” I say, visceral reaction. No filter. No pause. And he recoils, hands up in retreat.

And I'M the one who apologizes, for being direct, for being abrupt, for defending my personal space. I'M smoothing this over so I don't lose a client or heighten the circumstances until I put myself in danger. I'M questioning my behavior (Did I give him the wrong impression? Did I lead him on? Did I facilitate this in any way?)

This is how women are raised to feel, to think, to act: how did I mislead him? How did I fuck up? And I, for one, and exhausted from defending my autonomy as a person with female anatomy.