xoJane

THE UNIVERSE SENT ME A BAKING SHEET; OR, HOW I LEARNED TO STOP BEING SO UNGRATEFUL

It’s not all sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll with me, did you know I can actually be a rather self-aware mystical princess? In my most recent piece for xoJane, I write about discovering a baking sheet washed ashore in Hawaii that reminded me of the importance of gratitude and to stop acting like a whiney Twitter-follower-counting brat. Read it here.

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UPDATE: I WENT TO THE POLICE TO REPORT THE CAB DRIVER WHO SEXUALLY ASSAULTED EMILY AND ME — AND IT DIDN’T GO WELL

Remember a few weeks ago when I wrote about that sexually-assaulting-piece of shit cab driver who felt me up? Well, thanks to the comments and encouragement from friends and xoJane readers I went to the police station with Emily to report the incident.

Well, it didn’t go so well. The cops were assholes. Read the story here at xoJane.com.

IHTM: I WAS SEXUALLY ASSAULTED BY THE SAME CAB DRIVER AS XOJANE’S EMILY

In my most recent piece for xoJane, I wrote about being sexually assaulted by a New York City cab driver in September of 2010, a month after I had moved to New York. A very personal piece, it took me a long time to finally write. The positive, supportive responses from readers as well as getting the message out there about this guy has made me certain my decision to come forward with my story was the right thing to do. Below is a brief excerpt, read the entire piece here at xoJane.

Somewhere along the way, seatbelt strapped, my hand in his, head rested against the window, I started to doze off, strange anxious dreams mixing with the reality of what was happening. When I snapped to it, we were approaching the JFK airport. He still had his left hand on the wheel, but his right hand was no longer on my palm. Rather, it was down my favorite David Bowie T-shirt, slipped under my bra, massaging my breast.

I squeaked in shock and tried to pull his hand out of my shirt, but he persisted, attempting to coax me into thinking that it was okay in what I can only describe as an almost fatherly-tone. He continued to touch my breasts. I grabbed his hand and yanked it out with all my might, just as we were pulling into JFK. He mumbled a few words as I sat there, stunned. Then I took out my wallet and I paid. I goddamn paid, probably clicking the 20% tip option like I always do.

That’s a detail that especially maddens and humiliates me — I tipped a man for sexually assaulting me. I must have been in shock.

Thank you again for your kind words and support, and to xoJane’s Emily who shared such an experience, and was extremely supportive of my story.

Sophie