I casually mentioned to her that I had lost almost sixty pounds once. She looked me up and down and told me that it was time to get back to work. I neglected to tell her that I had practically starved myself; hit the gym twice a day, everyday for over a year; that I had paid the ultimate price; that I had in some strange sense, chosen to go back to the fat me. The invisible me.
I had been working for months to lose the weight, and almost overnight, everyone it seems had noticed. Suddenly the women at the bank would greet me with huge hellos, family members would proclaim how good I looked. Boys began flirting with me and men started coming onto me. I felt stranger's eyes on my body where I had never felt them before. It was a new, somewhat uncomfortable, but mildly exciting feeling.
That fall I was sent on a business trip for three weeks of training. We were in classes eight hours a day and were tested each morning on the material covered the previous day. The outcome of the training would in large part determine the outcome of our careers. Performing poorly on these tests was not an option. If you failed one exam, you were sent home. You could go no further in the training and no further up the proverbial corporate ladder.
With the pressure to succeed very high we formed study groups to help each other learn the day's materials. My particular study group consisted of myself, a woman from Houston Texas, a Colombian woman who lived in Boston and a young Christian named Jason. After we got out of class each day we would take turns going to each other's hotel room to study. When it was our turn to play host we would take it upon ourselves to order dinner for the whole group. In this way, we were able to make the daily allotment on our company credit cards stretch further.
One afternoon about half way through the three weeks it was the Christian's turn to host the study session and when I got to his room, I realized that I was the first of the women to arrive.
He then informed me that the Colombian woman had failed that morning's exam and was still at the training facility. The staff liked her and so was trying to determine if she had failed the test because of a language barrier or because she in fact did not know the material. They brought in a Spanish interpreter to administer the exam in her native tongue. If she could pass it in Spanish she would get to stay. If she failed again, she would go home. Now aware that she obviously wouldn't be making the study session that evening I decided to phone the other woman to see what was keeping her. When she picked up on the other end I could tell something was wrong. Apparently, something she ate earlier in the day had made her ill and she informed me that she was not going to be able to study with us.
When I explained to Jason that the other woman wasn't coming either he smiled softly and said, "Finally, I have you all to myself." He had been innocently flirting with me for a few days and I hadn't minded. At this point he got up and sat next to me on the bed. We made awkward conversation for a minute or two and then he leaned in and kissed me. I was a little taken aback, but I enjoyed it.
Faster than I can comprehend how it happened, he was instantly on top of me. Suddenly, it wasn't fun anymore and I felt panic sweep over me. His hands, it seemed were immediately everywhere. At first I tried to calmly tell him to "slow down."
"Please slow down". He acted as if he didn't hear me. He began frantically trying to unbutton my pants. Now, with more determination, I said, "SLOW DOWN!" He ignored me. Then I started saying, "No, please don't." Then I was begging, "Stop! Don't do this, please don't!" As I was yelling, "NO!" he somehow pinned my arms underneath my body, his knees digging into my thighs and put his hand over my mouth and nose. I couldn't breathe! With his free hand he somehow managed to pull my pants down. I was fighting, but I am 4'10", he was 6'4" and built like a Mack truck. And I couldn't breathe! That is when I realized that if I stopped fighting it, it might go quicker.
At that moment I recognized just how separate mind and body really are. I had made the conscious decision to stop fighting and yet it took a few seconds to become aware that my body was still violently twisting, turning, kicking; trying to get free of him. I could no longer think of what was happening to me, I could only think about one thing; I need oxygen! If I don't get oxygen, I am going to die. My whole body was desperately fighting for it. I have never experienced a more real, more painful, or more frightening feeling. Getting oxygen was my only task. Nothing else mattered. I couldn't think about the pain between my legs, or the man on top of me, I could only think about my need to breathe!
