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My sister had set me up with a new guy, and I was really excited about him. We’d already had two dates, and I thought he was great. We talked and laughed a lot and, that night, we danced together a couple of times. I was totally surprised when, way before last call, he just stood up and said he was leaving. It came out of nowhere. I didn’t want to go home, so I started ordering drinks. Then I met a guy friend I had known for about six months. I told him what happened. He started telling me horror stories from his own love life. We talked and laughed, and I was starting to feel better. When the bar closed, he offered me a ride home. I was too drunk to drive, but he only had about two drinks, so I was glad he offered. I remember him taking the ring road, which he said was the fastest way to my house, but then it seemed like we were travelling farther and farther away from the city. Suddenly, he pulled off the highway onto a side road where it was very dark. He told me he wouldn’t take me home until I had sex with him. I wanted him to just let me go, but he kept saying the same thing. He was really calm, but he just kept saying he wouldn’t take me anywhere until I did what he wanted. Finally, I gave in and had sex with him. He took me home and I felt so ashamed that I didn’t tell anyone what happened. Finally, I told my sister. She helped me reach out for help. I decided to report what happened to the police, I got medical help, and counseling. They helped me understand that I didn’t consent to what happened to me, and that it was sexual assault. I’m learning not to feel ashamed about what happened to me.