I thought that I owned my power.
But he smiled as he took it away.
He jested. I protested.
He pushed the door open, progressing forward.
I dug my nails in his chest and pushed back.
And he taunted and tickled me and tugged at my clothing.
Over and over, louder and louder, I told him to stop touching me and leave my house.
He smiled. I shouted.
I am 32. I am a grown ass, confident woman. I live alone. I pay my own bills. I manage an insurance brokerage. I have a degree.
How was it so easy?
How have I built this facade of safety?