Sensing Fire

Written by Ma’ayan, 23     (CW: sexual assault)

I was in India, having already traveled alone for quite some time. I was staying in Rishikesh, and stopped for a bite to eat. I don't remember if he or I initiated, but I ended up sitting with an Indian man who said he had been living in America for the past ten years. He shared with me the books he'd been writing and the work he'd done with energy and healing. I was intrigued to hear his stories and his experience in this energetic world. He was much older than I was, which gave me a sense of security. 

We walked around for hours, talking and sharing. He insisted on paying for our meal, which I tried to argue against, but let go. I realized that I enjoyed the feeling of being taken care of and seen. He held my hand on the way back. I told myself it was an act of kindness and closeness: it came from a place of love that goes beyond personal stories. But as we were walking, I began sensing that something wasn't exactly as I'd thought. I felt an ache in my belly telling me that I was getting too close to a fire that might burn me. But I argued against it – telling myself it was an innocent, friendly intimacy. 

When we got back to the house I was staying at, he offered me a free healing session. I jumped on it. I was happy for anything that was free. On the bed, he asked me to take my clothes off and lie on my back. I hesitated, but agreed, internally arguing that only the best massages are given while naked. He began by moving his hands over my body, a few centimeters away from my skin. Within minutes, he touched my belly, sensing how tense it had become.

Quite suddenly, I felt his tongue on my nipple. I jumped and he stopped and tried to relax me, and succeeded by explaining that through tantric practices, the body lets go of past traumas and opens up to a new world of ecstasy. And I believed him. Why? Because he talked directly to my place of insecurity and self-doubt as a woman in this world. And by telling me he would open me to the universe. I felt shame for putting up walls and saying "no." I told him I felt uncomfortable and that he may continue as long as he takes the tantric style out of the session. He agreed and left my nipples alone, but within minutes, I felt a finger at the entrance to my most sacred and vulnerable part.

I immediately screamed and tried to jump, but he held me down for a few minutes, breathing heavily and slowly becoming aroused. For a sudden moment, I felt the accumulation of all the pain from my lifetime and lifetimes before me. I began crying and he came close to hug me. I let him. I felt so guilty for not putting boundaries up before; I felt guilty for allowing him to pay for me; and I felt childish for presumably giving the wrong message. Maybe somehow, it was my fault and I led him to believe that I wanted this. And so I let him hug me, while I raged, screamed, and cried within. How different those two worlds can look: the external and the internal.

I left feeling shame, anger, and was in a fierce state of fear. The fear that, along with not trusting him, I found distrust in myself. I'd sensed that something was dangerous. I'd intuitively known that I was too close to a predator. From a lack of self knowledge, I pushed away my intuition and listened to thoughts that told me stories of love, attention, worth, and belonging. Thoughts that told me that I needed something from him. These are thoughts I can't trust – these thoughts that silence a deeper understanding of my experience.

A power that women have is this mystic sense of knowing. An understanding that is almost incomprehensible to the human language. I am grateful that I have the power to look at myself and this experience and learn all I can about myself. I'm grateful for the ability to slowly close the gap between the internal and external worlds until they become one. I'm grateful that through this encounter, I am beginning to see the difference between my thoughts and my intuition.