A thing I will share and it has taken several decades for me to even be able to talk about ….

I was drunk and passed out on a buddy (or so I thought) and he “assaulted” me and I came to it. So like Emma Lindsay, here I am a 5' 11" guy at the time 210lbs of muscle who could bench 325 and squat nearly a 1,000lb … and I was flipped over and things were done. I got up and punched him hard in the face and stumbled out dazed. It hit a day later and really screwed with my head for many years.

At the time, I had a feminist ex-girlfriend sit there and yell at me at the time stating as a man I had no idea or clue about rape and what not during a late night discussion with her friends. I broke up with her at that point and for the first time I cried at night (in the same way when I screwed up my knee on the field). That rebuttal tore at me for years.

It was at that point I started to notice how women would group together or cower a bit in situations and during that time I would try to step by and offer cover where I could … I think that cost me more dates and “Fun nights” …. from then on I would project a happy go lucky fun face, and used copious amount of booze to cover those sad days. But really who could I talk to …

The silver lining is I realize now is that with the pain, disgust, and tear down that a victim goes through (as a man), sexual identity doesn’t matter, it comes down to a power exchange where a trusting and loving person is assaulted by one who isn’t. Women of assault who are able to move on with life are the most beautiful and strong people in the world from my view …. but maybe my view is warped ….