Age 16, 2003
When I was 16 I got a job waitressing in a pub. My mum had worked there, my aunt still worked there. The chef was a man in his late 40s I think. He would make sexualised comments to me all the time and made me incredibly uneasy and uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to respond and thought I had to just accept it so I tried to laugh it off. He would ‘squeeze’ past me in the kitchen, holding my waist, hand trailing over my bum, his entire body would be against mine as he moved past, smelling my hair and making awful sounds. He was so close I could smell the cigarettes on his breath. My body would tense and freeze, knowing it felt wrong but not knowing what to do, and everyone would pass it off as me being dramatic or silly right? The waitresses used to have to go into the cellar to make desserts, and I’d dread the orders coming through, because I knew if he could, he’d find an excuse to follow me down there. Backing me into a corner and putting his vile hands on me. Everyone loved him, he was deemed a great guy. He taught me that some men will take what they want regardless of how it leaves others feeling.