Redditer: Disgusted and I can’t stop blaming myself for my date encounter

[metanoia]

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Disgusted and I can’t stop blaming myself for my date encounter​

Hear me out

This is a throwaway Reddit account.

I’m typing this while sitting in my car in a dark carpark. I’ve been sitting here for 3 hours because I’m too disgusted and ashamed to move. I feel like I’m breaking down and I don’t know who to tell.

I had just finished a late gym session and was rushing to meet a guy from Coffee Meets Bagel for the first time. I was just in my Lululemon bra top and biker shorts. While I was cleaning up in the gym toilet, I dropped the ziplock bag with my fresh change of clothes right onto the wet toilet floor.

I have OCD. To most people, that’s just a "wash it later" moment, but for me, those clothes became instantly contaminated. I couldn't bring myself to put them on my body. I felt so exposed, but I didn't want to cancel last minute, so I went to meet him in my gym gear. The moment we met, I felt the vibe was off. He kept staring at my chest and my legs, and asked about my figure. I felt so uneasy that I made an excuse to leave after just 20 minutes. He offered to walk me to the lift to carpark. We got into the lift, and it was just the two of us. The space felt so small. He didn't stay on his side; he kept edging closer until I could feel the heat coming off him. I shuffled to the corner, trying to give him space, but he followed, pinning me into the corner.

Then I felt his hand on my butt. My brain went in denial an thought, "Maybe it's his bag? I pressed my body against the cold metal wall to get away, but he didn't stop. I felt his fingers, firm and deliberate sliding across my butt, tracing the shape of me through the thin fabric of my shorts. I could feel the pressure of his fingertips digging in, purposely sliding into my crack. I was paralyzed. I wanted to scream, to slap him, to tell him to get away, but I just stood there like a statue, staring at the floor numbers, praying for the door to open. My skin was crawling. I felt like an object, not a person.

The second the doors opened at the carpark, I bolted. I didn't look back. I ran to my car, locked the doors, and just collapsed.

I can’t stop the intrusive thoughts. If I hadn't been so clumsy with my bag, I would have been wearing my baggy clothes. If I hadn't worn such a tight gym set, maybe he wouldn't have felt he had the "right" to touch me. I feel like it's my fault for being so careless and for even showing up looking like that. Did I bring this on myself? Did I "invite" it by being underdressed?

I feel so dirty. I’ve scrubbed my hands with sanitizer until they’re red but I still feel his fingers on me. I don't know how act like everything is okay.