Last weekend, I went on a date with a guy I had met in real life rather than through a dating app. (The first date I’ve had of this sort since July when I met The Wrong Guy.) When we first met, he was fun, flirty, confident and attractive, so I asked if he wanted to go for a drink. On Friday night, he joined two of my male friends and me for drinks in the pub. Within five minutes I liked him even more; he wasn’t threatened by the two loud, confident males I was with and the night started well.

We had a proper “lads’ night” – drank to excess, went raving, ended up in an extortionately expensive strip club and continued to party until 6am.

Early on, my best friend (A) got the low down on this new guy (V):

• A: You know she wants more than a fling?
• V: I’m interested in something more casual.
• A: Don’t be a dickhead and don’t hurt her.

I appreciated this guy’s honesty. Our conversation flowed freely all night and we felt comfortable with one another.  A told him this was not a one-night thing for me and that sex was not on the cards.

He said his intentions were changing – he told a stripper he hoped I’d be his girlfriend… (No, I didn’t spot the red flag; we’ll blame the booze.)

He told me I was different to other girls and that I was so cool to be having a night like this. The throwaway comment went in one ear and out the other; I was with my best friend and having fun and that was enough. But during the night, V changed: he started to be argumentative with my friends, he disappeared when I (stupidly) trusted him with my phone, he stripped his top off ready to have a punch-up…

When 5am rolled around, he didn’t get my hint to leave.

I went upstairs to bed, unaware he intended to follow me shortly after. Half asleep, I remember muttering something about only wanting to sleep. He assured me he respected my “no sex tonight” rule and he told me how much fun he had that evening and how everything felt right with me.  Bullshit, bullshit, shhh I want to sleep… bullshit. It was clear from his advances he didn’t want to sleep. I said “no” once, then twice, then a third time. He stopped, but only for 10 minutes. Then I said no again, and he refused to stop. He rolled on top of me and pinned my arms down. I turned my head away from him and asked him to stop again. He didn’t. He was stronger than he looked and he had all his weight on top of me.

I practically shouted “STOP!” for the fifth time and I managed to push him off me.

It should not take five refusals for someone to listen.

On Sunday, I messaged him saying it was a shame he didn’t respect my decision to not sleep with him and that I had to say “no” more than once. He said he totally understood, blamed it on booze, and remarked how lucky he was that I was a grown-up and stuck to my guns.

He sent me a text saying, “I hope it wasn’t too weird :)”

An acknowledgement of his mistake – yes.

Responsibility? No. An apology? No. Hopefully, a lesson was learnt.

Photo by George Dolgikh at Pexels.