Blonde By Nature

I’m writing this blog as a female. One who trained in Jujitsu. Who has been raised as a strong, independent female. One who has carried a kubaton since her last year in high school on her keychain. Someone who played with the boys, wrestles with the dogs and enjoys a baseball injury.

No, I’m no typical blonde. I am a blonde with ‘piss and vinegar’ as my Gramma use to say. It takes a lot to knock me down physically and psychologically. I don’t drink often because I don’t like to be “out of control” of my body. I’ve only tried weed and mushrooms (involuntarily sprinkled on my pizza). Not interested in impairing my bodies natural abilities. I am grateful for my health as there are some people out there who have to live with slow motor skills every single day of their lives. Why would I mess with a good thing?

47 hours ago I was sitting at the Keg bar with my husband in Whistler, enjoying the best caramel apple martini I’d ever had. 3 guys sat beside me to talk - they were at a stag party. They were celebrating and wanted to toast with a “beautiful woman.” (fucking liars)

47.5 hours ago I could barely formulate words. I could barely walk, I couldn’t see, I was dizzy and I didn’t have any motor skills to function. I went to the washroom to notice the 3 guys who had ordered a shot for me (while I was sitting next to my husband) were standing outside the washroom. They were clean cut, cute, nicely dressed. Obviously had money. Strange. I pushed past them and walked into the ladies washroom - my intuition was warning me about something. You know, that animal instinct that we all have when danger is near. Only if I could get my hands to function right, to wash them fast and get the hell out. There was another girl in the washroom who managed to wash her hands faster than me and left before me.

Trust me when I say that it has taken me this 47.5 hours to recollect what had happened. Last night, I was in and out of sleep trying to piece this together.

I walked out and 2 of the guys blocked me from leaving by standing in my path. I look back at it now, they were also blocking the view to the bathrooms, which were off in the corner of the building. Shoulder to shoulder. These were no small guys either. The “groom” started pulling me into the men’s washroom. I remember hearing, “just 3 mins of your time, please.” He grabbed my wrists and pulled. I did a maneuver and got out of it (thank you Sensi Eric). I felt a force pushing me towards the groom, I was so dizzy, or was it the 2 other guys? I had to collect myself together, what the hell was wrong with me? I think I told them, if I said it out loud, not to fuck with me. I was thrown over the shoulder of one of the guys, until kicked him. I will be honest when I say that I don’t know the exact order of all of this. But these things did happen. Finally, I remember…”she’s a fighter, let’s get out of here”…and poof gone. I don’t know what else happened much after that. Other then I left immediately after and at the same time a friend came walking over to find us and ran into me. I couldn’t speak. But she knew I needed to get home.

I spent about 6-8 hours emptying my entire system. Curled on the floor of the washroom my healthy body “malfunctioning.” Shivering. It was so hot and cold at the same time. Hoping I was somewhere safe. I knew something wasn’t right - my Mom’s 2nd career is a branch manager of St. John’s Ambulance. I had to tell someone. But couldn’t move. Couldn’t communicate. My heart was racing. Or was it slow? In and out of consciousness.

I woke up feeling embarrassed. Feeling restless, but unable to sit up. I was so dizzy. No headache though - that’s weird. I didn’t feel right. I couldn’t move. I was numb. My brain wasn’t working…I couldn’t even think of where I was. I spent the day dizzy. Confused. Quiet. Hurting. Loss of appetite. Wanting to swing a bat but unable to.

So now, I sit here not really knowing what happened. But I know that I was almost…we’ll I don’t want to think about that. I was one of the lucky ones. I was a fighter. I wonder what girl they moved on to next. If you are out there, I’m so sorry. So SO sorry. I tried to teach them a lesson. I tried to nap when I got home, but it’s a nightmare in my head of 3 guys licking their lips, staring at me. Will the next victim be this strong?

How many drinks did I have you ask? That’s the problem. I had 2 at the house, 1/2 of a martini and 1 unlucky shot. Definitely not enough to react the way I did.

Where was my husband? Drunk. Oblivious that his wife was getting assaulted in the next room. I don’t blame him. My whole ball team was drunk. No one was paying attention to anyone. These were bold guys.

I am strong. I learned to be strong through another “occurrence” that shall not be mentioned 8 years ago. He got away with it, fucking prick. These guys, I’m going to do the best I can to see that the day comes that someone drugs you and tortures you.

Everyone else. Be careful. Do not take drinks from strangers. Take care of your friends. Be strong. And fight and never ever EVER stop the battle.

I’m happy to answer any questions anyone may have on the topic. I don’t call myself an expert by any means, but I’ve been through it and can help identify the feelings that you may be left with. Stay safe.

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