It was just a regular date

Once upon a time, there was a girl who went to a club with her girlfriends to dance.  While buying drinks at the bar, the bartender began to flirt.  Never one to turn down a friendly smile, she returned the flirtations.  A short while later, a phone number was requested and delivered.

Several nights later, the bartender called the girl and plans were made for a date.

It was nothing fancy.  The decided to go for a few drinks and a late dinner.  Maybe dancing.

He arrived on time, met the parents, shook hands. Before walking out of her parents' house, the girl told them she wouldn't be late and she loved them.

It didn't take long before arriving at their first destination that drinks were ordered.  In fact, the pair sat at the bar so her date could talk shop with their bartender he happened to know.

After a drink and some appetizers, the pair moved on to a nearby club.  The boy ordered the girl another drink (that makes it 2 so far) and they danced.  Between the dances, they had one more drink(making the grand total 3 for the evening) before leaving.

Stumbling on her way to the car, she climbs inside and kisses the boy on the cheek before buckling her seat belt.   Only once they started driving, they didn't head to the girl's home.  It was near midnight, but the boy took the girl to his place and manages to get his date into his bedroom.

And until I was sitting in a psychology class, most of the night remained a fuzzy blur.  I knew I was in a boy's bedroom and didn't go home until the next morning.  The particular class had a guest speaker from our city's police department discussing Date Rape.

During his lecture, I began to feel ill.  I fought back the tears and the urge to throw up.

It was as if the the detective was telling my story.

I was unconscious. 

I had been drinking. 

I had sex. 

I never gave consent.  It wasn't violent.  There were no bruises or physical proof of what happened in his bedroom. Only my foggy memories that came washing over me while sitting in that college classroom.  I became acutely aware of the fact that while on a date, I had 3 drinks...  only 3.  Barely enough to leave me with a buzz on a good day let alone passed out drunk in a strange bed.

What I would like to know from today's politicians?  Does this count as a LEGITIMATE RAPE?  I wasn't tied up or beaten, but  my consent was removed.  I would even venture into saying I was given something other than alcohol to ensure my willingness.

And until today, the only person I ever discussed that night with was my husband.  I've never considered myself a victim.  In fact, I never even thought of that night as rape until sitting in that class room.

I decided to share my story with Shell's PYHO this week.  Not every story of rape is the same.  There is no black and white, text-book definition.   Politicians need to know that before passing judgement on what should or shouldn't be allowed.