I am watching the Ford/Kavanaugh proceedings just like everyone else, and I am seeing a lot of posts on Facebook about how Dr. Ford was making up her story for money or for political reasons. I also saw President Trump make light of her testimony while in Southhaven because she couldn't remember important dates, times, and places. The way he quoted her was really dismissive and mean. All he had to say was that he didn't believe her. However, I found her fragile and believable. That's my opinion--I have no more substantiation than the next person.
These hearings brought up a personal story that I haven't thought of in years but I want to share with you. Just because you can't remember when or where something traumatic happened to you doesn't mean it didn't happen.
In or around 1970 while I was a student at Ole Miss, I was asked to go on a blind date with a "friend" of a friend and her boyfriend. I made a bad choice to go. (I can't remember the exact year.) The person who set me up is deceased, so I cannot ask her his name. Yep, I can't remember his name! When he picked me up, he asked me if I liked strawberry daiquiries. I said I did even though I was not a big drinker. What's his name took me to his trailer where he lived alone and mixed up a batch of daiquiries. I can't remember the street or even anything that could help me place what area of Oxford this guy lived in.
I had not eaten supper and he did not offer me anything to eat. I drank a large glass of the concoction and I sat down on his couch. He started to try to kiss me and press up against me. I was embarrassed and scared and really didn't know what to do next. I didn't know him at all so I didn't know how he would react to my rejections. What had my friend told him about me that he was so presumptuous to dive right in with the aggressive behavior? We watched TV and I fended him off and as I began to feel the effects of the alcohol, I also began to get nauseated. I excused myself, went to his bathroom, threw up and missed the toilet. I grabbed a rug and placed it on top of my vomit. I laughed to myself because I thought that he would get a surprise when he went into the bathroom.
When I returned, I told him I didn't feel well, and he probably noticed that I had gotten sick and did not waste time to take me back to the dorm or sorority house. I can't remember where I was living at the time. And it's not because I was drunk or that I had blacked out. I had one large sweet drink that made me sick and I am guessing that vomit breath was a turn off, because that date could have gone really bad for me.
When my friend asked me how the date went, I told her the story and she and her boyfriend made me feel awkward--as if I were not telling the truth . I never saw that guy again anywhere at anytime on campus or elsewhere. I can't remember telling most of my friends about my "daiquiri date" because I felt ashamed-like somehow I had presented myself as a big drinker or a promiscuous girl. I felt like the only reason I was on that date was for that guy to see how far he could get with me sexually. It made me feel as if I was just a thing, not a person. And I was questioning myself. I doubt that most of my friends could recall this event, even the guy who set up the date, who I have not seen since college. I just know it is possible to have something scary happen to you, you get out of it, and you don't remember the big stuff.
Good thing I don't have to tell this to a judiciary committee--I could be discredited by the people who were elected to serve our country and even mocked by the president --and they could make me feel like it wasn't the truth --just like my friend who got me that stupid blind date.
These hearings brought up a personal story that I haven't thought of in years but I want to share with you. Just because you can't remember when or where something traumatic happened to you doesn't mean it didn't happen.
In or around 1970 while I was a student at Ole Miss, I was asked to go on a blind date with a "friend" of a friend and her boyfriend. I made a bad choice to go. (I can't remember the exact year.) The person who set me up is deceased, so I cannot ask her his name. Yep, I can't remember his name! When he picked me up, he asked me if I liked strawberry daiquiries. I said I did even though I was not a big drinker. What's his name took me to his trailer where he lived alone and mixed up a batch of daiquiries. I can't remember the street or even anything that could help me place what area of Oxford this guy lived in.
I had not eaten supper and he did not offer me anything to eat. I drank a large glass of the concoction and I sat down on his couch. He started to try to kiss me and press up against me. I was embarrassed and scared and really didn't know what to do next. I didn't know him at all so I didn't know how he would react to my rejections. What had my friend told him about me that he was so presumptuous to dive right in with the aggressive behavior? We watched TV and I fended him off and as I began to feel the effects of the alcohol, I also began to get nauseated. I excused myself, went to his bathroom, threw up and missed the toilet. I grabbed a rug and placed it on top of my vomit. I laughed to myself because I thought that he would get a surprise when he went into the bathroom.
When I returned, I told him I didn't feel well, and he probably noticed that I had gotten sick and did not waste time to take me back to the dorm or sorority house. I can't remember where I was living at the time. And it's not because I was drunk or that I had blacked out. I had one large sweet drink that made me sick and I am guessing that vomit breath was a turn off, because that date could have gone really bad for me.
When my friend asked me how the date went, I told her the story and she and her boyfriend made me feel awkward--as if I were not telling the truth . I never saw that guy again anywhere at anytime on campus or elsewhere. I can't remember telling most of my friends about my "daiquiri date" because I felt ashamed-like somehow I had presented myself as a big drinker or a promiscuous girl. I felt like the only reason I was on that date was for that guy to see how far he could get with me sexually. It made me feel as if I was just a thing, not a person. And I was questioning myself. I doubt that most of my friends could recall this event, even the guy who set up the date, who I have not seen since college. I just know it is possible to have something scary happen to you, you get out of it, and you don't remember the big stuff.
Good thing I don't have to tell this to a judiciary committee--I could be discredited by the people who were elected to serve our country and even mocked by the president --and they could make me feel like it wasn't the truth --just like my friend who got me that stupid blind date.
