- [Voiceover] When you realize something
terrible might happen,
something that you can't protect yourself from,
you can't even admit it to yourself.
I guess if you're body can't protect itself,
your brain tries to.
We went to a bar for our first date.
He was handsome in a way that intrigued me
but didn't intimidate me.
He insisted on buying my drink and I insisted we split it.
But before I could even reach for my wallet his plastic
card was sliding across the bar.
It went as well as first dates usually go.
We revisited the small commonalities we had,
things like family and the minor stresses of our jobs.
He made a few jokes that I thought were worth
a small laugh but gave a big one instead.
After I finished my first drink, he got me another one.
After the second drink, he flagged down the bartender
for a third.
I could feel myself getting tipsy, getting uneasy.
I was two vodka sodas in and drinking on an empty stomach
so I told him I should call it a night.
He made fun of my early curfew and asked if I drove myself,
grazing my knee with his thumb.
I said I took an Uber so he asked if I needed a ride home.
I said no, but again, he insisted.
He said he wanted to make sure that I got home safe.
And I remember how he shot me a toothy smile,
how I trusted him.
I remember how, in that moment, I believed him,
so I said yes.
As we walked to the car I felt a pit in my stomach
though I couldn't pinpoint why.
I reminded myself that he'd done all the right things
when it came to dating.
He showed up on time, he told me I looked beautiful,
he held the door.
He's a nice guy, right?
When we got into the car I felt the space around me
getting smaller.
He put his hand on my leg and in that moment I realized
how alone we were.
I realized we were still just two strangers.
When he pulled up to my house I told him I was tired.
I told him he could pull over and drop me off right there,
that that would be perfect.
He asked if he could come in for a quick glass of water.
He said he was feeling the few drinks he had
and he didn't feel like he could drive home just yet.
The pit in my stomach was still there
but I told myself that I was being crazy.
I told myself that I couldn't be responsible
for a drunk driver on the road.
I told myself that it was fine, that he was a nice guy.
So I said yes and I let him inside.
When we got inside I went to the kitchen
to get him a glass of water.
I wondered if my roommate was home,
I wondered how long he would stay.
He took a sip of water and then wandered
towards my room without invitation,
his barely touched water glass sitting on the table.
When he got to my room he touched the books on my shelf,
skimming their back covers.
He turned a picture of my sister and I over in his hands
and then he moved towards me.
At first I let him kiss me.
I let his tongue part my lips and his hand rest
on the small of my back.
I told myself I would kiss him back for a few seconds.
I told myself after he kissed me, after he was done,
he would leave.
Then his kisses got harder, his hands moved more quickly.
Suddenly my spine was hitting the door frame.
Suddenly he was being too rough and as I tried to pull back,
he pulled me towards him harder.
I told him I'm tired.
I told him I have my period.
I told him my roommate's home,
that I don't want to go any further.
I told him to slow down but he didn't.
So, I closed my eyes and I wondered when he would stop.
I wondered if agreeing to have sex with him would be
easier than what the alternative could be.
I hated myself for thinking it
but as he pressed up against me, I thought,
maybe I should just get it over with.
But I didn't get it over with.
I wiggled and I shifted and I moved his body off me.
I told him to stop and I said it loudly and with purpose.
And luckily, finally, he did stop.
But they don't always.
And that's the thing about nice guys.
You can't always pick them out.
They have good haircuts and they open doors.
They pay for your drink and they laugh at your jokes
and they ask about your family.
But sometimes nice guys do those things not because
they're nice, not in the real sense of the word,
but because they associate doing those things
with getting what they want, or at least, deserving it.
I found out the hard way that in modern dating
that translates to if I spend at least $50 on you,
you better sleep with me.
I sick of hearing about the friend zone
and being called a tease.
I'm sick of the unwritten rule that if someone spends
their time or money on me that makes them worthy
of my physical affection.
Maybe there will be times when I'm just tired.
And maybe there will be times when I'm on my period,
or when my roommate's home,
or when the timing just isn't right.
But maybe none of those things will be true and
you know what, I still don't need a reason for saying no.
My body is my own.
It cannot be bought for three drinks at a dimly lit bar
or the flowers or tickets to a show.
When I do say yes, it will be because I want to.
(light piano music)