I always considered myself to be strong, a tough woman. Two years ago, towards the end of summer, I was driving home after a dinner at a friend’s house and I decided to stop for gas on the highway. I got out of the car and as I was filling it up a man attacked me from behind. I couldn’t move. He beat me up and ripped my shirt off. I was paralyzed. I wanted to scream, defend myself, but I wasn’t able to do anything. I couldn’t even think straight. I closed my eyes hoping that he would go away soon. Meanwhile my dog started barking so loudly that the owner of the petrol station came out of the shop. He ran towards me screaming. At that point, the man who attacked me ran away, before he could rape me. The owner took me to the police station and then to the hospital. I got home with bruises all over my body. I didn’t talk about it with anyone. I convinced myself that everything is ok. But I couldn’t sleep well for months, I couldn’t go out at night by myself self, I couldn’t fill up the car when I was alone. I am still angry at myself. For not being able to defend myself and to cry out for help. As if it is my fault that I was put in the position in which I was not able to defend myself in the first place.