I’m 37, and recently I hooked up with a man who is 33. The more I reflect on it, the more unsettled and uncomfortable I feel about the entire experience. We went to see a film together, then returned to his place. Things became flirtatious, and eventually we ended up in his bed.
At one point, he pulled off my skirt and said, word for word, “I’m about to have sex with you without a condom.” We had never discussed protection, but to me it feels like common sense—you use protection with someone new, especially when you don’t know their health status. I was stunned by his statement.
I froze. Nervousness took over, and I tried to deflect by saying, “I’m not on birth control,” hoping that would stop him. Instead, he brushed it off and replied, “That’s okay, baby.” I didn’t explicitly say no or stop. I didn’t assert myself, because I was afraid he might become angry or irritated.
He went ahead anyway. When he finished, he pulled out and ejaculated on my chest and in my hair—again without asking if that was acceptable to me. I left soon after and blocked his number.
On the drive home, I convinced myself it was normal, that it was somehow my fault for not being more assertive. But deep down, I know why I didn’t speak up: I was alone with a man I barely knew, someone physically stronger than me, and I feared that resisting could provoke anger.
As someone who works in healthcare, I’m aware of my own struggles with depression. I’ve been using sex as a way to feel something, to break through the numbness. In a strange way, this experience jolted me out of that spiral.
I realized that I’ve been putting myself in risky situations with men I don’t know well, convincing myself I didn’t care what happened. But I was wrong. This encounter showed me that I do care, that I still value myself enough to stop this pattern.
I still feel unsettled and gross about what happened, but I’ve decided to focus on me. I can move forward, and I will be fine.
I believe this situation falls into a very gray area when it comes to assault, but I want to acknowledge that upfront for anyone who may find such topics difficult.
I’m 37, and recently I hooked up with a man who is 33. The more I reflect on it, the more unsettled and uncomfortable I feel about the entire experience. We went to see a film together, then returned to his place. Things became flirtatious, and eventually we ended up in his bed.
At one point, he pulled off my skirt and said, word for word, “I’m about to have sex with you without a condom.” We had never discussed protection, but to me it feels like common sense—you use protection with someone new, especially when you don’t know their health status. I was stunned by his statement.
I froze. Nervousness took over, and I tried to deflect by saying, “I’m not on birth control,” hoping that would stop him. Instead, he brushed it off and replied, “That’s okay, baby.” I didn’t explicitly say no or stop. I didn’t assert myself, because I was afraid he might become angry or irritated.
He went ahead anyway. When he finished, he pulled out and ejaculated on my chest and in my hair—again without asking if that was acceptable to me. I left soon after and blocked his number.
On the drive home, I convinced myself it was normal, that it was somehow my fault for not being more assertive. But deep down, I know why I didn’t speak up: I was alone with a man I barely knew, someone physically stronger than me, and I feared that resisting could provoke anger.
As someone who works in healthcare, I’m aware of my own struggles with depression. I’ve been using sex as a way to feel something, to break through the numbness. In a strange way, this experience jolted me out of that spiral.
I realized that I’ve been putting myself in risky situations with men I don’t know well, convincing myself I didn’t care what happened. But I was wrong. This encounter showed me that I do care, that I still value myself enough to stop this pattern.
I still feel unsettled and gross about what happened, but I’ve decided to focus on me. I can move forward, and I will be fine.
