I’m really lucky. The person who tried to force me into something I didn’t want was stupid enough to do it in a club where I had friends nearby. It probably sounds like nothing if I recount my own personal tale now. But for me, it was very real, and had a very real affect on my life.

He vaguely knew a friend of mine I was sitting with. He seemed intelligent enough initially. He focussed his attention towards me. Flattering enough, but I wasn’t interested. No big deal, you’d think. He offered to buy me a drink – in what could be construed as a friendly, if blatantly seeking-to-score move. I politely declined. I don’t take drinks from people I’m not interested in – it’s a personal choice but I don’t like to risk people thinking I’m into them when I’m not.

I noticed his tone change. He wasn’t disappointed that I’d turned down his offer; he was offended, angry even. I remember him saying “no one refuses a drink from me”. By this point, our mutual friend had gone to the bar, leaving us alone. Moving from the opposite side of the booth to mine, he pushes me down. He tries to kiss me and I twist and turn to keep my face from him. For a moment I feel helpless. I find any strength I can and push with all my might, just as he bites into my neck.

Somehow, I manage to create enough of a gap and slide out, running as fast as my legs will take me. I find my friends, including one particularly tough looking friend, and tell them what I’m running from. I believe a ‘quiet word’ was had, where it was made clear he was to never think about trying that again with any girl in there.

A few months later, I notice a group of new employees being walked through the call centre I was working in at the time. I remember the feeling of my breath rushing out of my body as I recognised a familiar face. For many months, he worked on the next team across from me.

The upshot of the experience for me was to learn that an assault doesn’t have to be ‘successful’ to affect you. He may not have managed to get where he wanted – and I don’t know how far he’d have taken it if he had – but the fact someone had disregarded my rights as a person so forcefully, so publicly, and so carelessly… hurt. It made me angry and afraid and a whole bunch of other emotions that I still can’t put my finger on.

In my opinion, far too many people would be inclined to say that if the attacker wasn’t successful in their bid that it’s nothing more than a close shave. It’s easy to forget the fact that the attempt in its own right is traumatic.

I’m not playing the victim on this one. It’s not something I feel I have allowed to hold me back, or alter my choices in life. However, it has taken me a long time to accept that his actions on that night did affect me. To accept that they did contribute to my anxiety problems for a long time, and possibly even go some way to explaining some trust issues I’ve had to work on. Saying that, I will always cherish how lucky I was to get away.

There is no get-out clause here. Just because the person who you tried to attack fought you off, or because someone defended them, or for whatever reason it didn’t go to plan; you still did it.