Eighteen months ago, I experienced a profoundly alarming incident at a club in Berlin, culminating in a man’s attempted sexual assault on me. This occurred after I communicated to both him and his partner that I was solely interested in responding to the woman’s desire for a sensual connection with me as a lesbian — explicitly stating my disinterest in the man’s participation in our interaction. I had candidly informed the couple about my past traumatic experiences, which stemmed from deceptive invitations by ostensibly lesbian women, ultimately serving as a ploy for a unicorn hunt.

I fervently wish I were bisexual or pansexual — it would undeniably simplify my life. However, my romantic and sexual attractions are exclusively towards women and non-binary individuals who identify with femininity. I remember as graysexual, yet I am profoundly sensual and often express this aspect of my sensuality through shared kink and BDSM play. Being inherently submissive in this realm, I find engaging in these activities at public events and with groups of trusted friends significantly safer, both physically and emotionally, than private encounters.

The woman in question captivated me deeply. She radiated kindness and thoughtfulness, and our interaction was marked by engaging and lively discussions. Both members of the couple reassured me of their respect for my stance. The man, in particular, made it clear that he understood my exclusive interest in women and expressed his desire to observe our sensual play (which I had explicitly stated would not involve genital sex) to gather “ideas” for how he and his partner could embark on exploring BDSM safely.

We arranged to reconvene at the same venue the following week. I prepared my boundaries in a comprehensive email the day before our meeting. Both individuals responded, affirming their understanding and agreement.

I was devastated when the night’s events quickly escalated, resulting in the man’s attempt to sexually assault me, leading to the couple’s expulsion and lifetime ban from the club. I am profoundly grateful for my decision to engage in such activities only in public settings. The woman’s inaction to support me deeply wounded me, despite her prior indication of understanding my limits, leaving me to ponder over my potential missteps for several weeks.

I speculate that she might be in an abusive relationship as I struggle to dismiss my initial perception of her genuine compassion. Her failure to defend me casts doubt on her ability to assert boundaries within her relationship. Moreover, as a facilitator of consent workshops to teach individuals how to maintain their safety and respect boundaries, this incident nearly saw me compromising my safety.

This revision maintains the original content while incorporating synonyms and enhancing the clarity and flow of the narrative.

Eighteen months ago, I had a remarkably narrow escape at a club in Berlin when my evening concluded with an attempted sexual assault by a man who was part of a couple. This occurred after I had communicated to both individuals that my interest was solely in the woman’s desire to connect sensually with me as a lesbian. I had explicitly stated that I had no intention of involving the man in our interaction. I had previously encountered several distressing situations where an invitation from a woman who presented herself as lesbian turned out to be a pretext for engaging in a unicorn hunt.

I often wish I were bisexual or pansexual — it would simplify many aspects of my life. Still, thus far, I am only attracted to women and individuals who identify as female or non-binary. Although I am remembered as graysexual, I am deeply sensual and often express this aspect of myself through shared kinks and BDSM activities. Being completely submissive in this sphere, I find that exploring this part of my identity at public events and gatherings, rather than privately, offers more excellent safety for me, both physically and emotionally. I typically engage in these activities within a circle of trusted friends.

I was deeply attracted to this woman. She appeared compassionate and considerate, and our interaction sparked with engaging conversation. The couple reassured me of their respect for my boundaries. The man, in particular, made it clear that he understood my exclusive interest in women and expressed a desire to observe the sensual dynamics (which I had specified would exclude genital sex) to gather “inspiration” for how he and his partner could safely explore BDSM together.

We arranged to reconvene at the same venue the following week. In the interim, I explicitly outlined my boundaries in a detailed email sent the day before our planned meeting at a club in Berlin. Both individuals responded to my email, confirming their understanding and agreement.

I was devastated when the interaction that night quickly escalated to an attempted sexual assault by the man, leading to the couple’s expulsion and lifetime ban from the club. I am grateful that such experiences are confined to public spaces. What deeply wounded me was the woman’s inaction in supporting me, despite her indications of understanding my limits, leaving me to question for weeks what I might have misunderstood.

I suspect that their relationship might be abusive towards her — for I still struggle to accept that my perception of her genuine care was mistaken. If she could not advocate for me, I would question her ability to assert her healthy boundaries within her relationship. Additionally, I conduct consent workshops to equip individuals with strategies to protect themselves and maintain their boundaries. Yet, I found myself perilously close to failing to safeguard my safety.

What aspect of my email, what element of my words, did these individuals fail to comprehend? That man blatantly disregarded my explicitly defined boundaries as if they were non-existent, treating me as an inanimate, lifeless object. The ordeal left me feeling diminished for several weeks after that. I was perpetually haunted by the incident, incapable of focusing on my professional responsibilities or parental duties during that period.

What inflated sense of entitlement could drive someone to disregard such explicitly stated boundaries blatantly? To assume that the principles of stringent consent, not merely legally mandated but also expressly agreed upon in writing, would not apply to them?

This was not my first encounter with such conduct, nor am I the first woman or individual to face such behavior. Regrettably, it is a pervasive issue across society. However, this incident breached a precise boundary in a context that always represented safety for me.

The Intellectual Violation

Shortly before Christmas, I returned to my homeland of Australia for a visit. Australia represents significant trauma for me, despite having some cherished friends there, distant from mainstream Australian culture. I value the opportunity to reconnect with these outstanding individuals. Yet, Australia has consistently felt unwilling to accommodate my true self. Each return to my birth country fills me with dread and a sense of unease.

Upon my arrival in Australia, I reconnected with a former friend, whom we’ll call Ilona, whom I last saw in 2004. I first met Ilona when I was 16 through her family’s involvement in the Youth Group at my uncle’s church. Her family had been a source of support during my early twenties as I battled severe depression.

In April 2022, I learned of the death of Ilona’s older brother from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, which came as a shock to me. When we last spoke via Zoom in July 2021, he was cautiously hopeful about undergoing stem cell therapy, talking enthusiastically about his life and children.

Her insistence on discussing this topic with a sense of urgency felt unsettling and highly inappropriate, in a manner that I couldn’t quite articulate.

Upon learning of his passing in late April, it was the first indication I had that his treatment in late 2021 had not been successful. After expressing my condolences to his and Ilona’s family

Having followed a distinct trajectory through life from Ilona and her family, experiences were abundant she and I could have shared. Ilona had two children I had yet to meet, and I had maintained a close relationship with her two elder sisters. Altogether, there was about two decades’ worth of life updates concerning at least six family members (Ilona’s siblings and parents) that I was keen to learn about, and I was looking forward to exchanging tales of parenting with Ilona.

We exchanged anecdotes from our pasts, and I received a brief overview of Ilona’s children and updates on her parents and her late brother. Yet, despite having a collective hundred years of life stories to delve into, Ilona appeared eager to probe my thoughts on Germany’s and the global community’s sluggish progress toward adopting renewable energy sources. Her persistence on this subject felt oddly unsettling and strikingly inappropriate, considering the wealth of personal history and experiences we had to catch up on, amounting to more than a century’s worth of shared memories and familial updates.

At that juncture, I established a firm boundary. I expressed no interest in engaging in any discussion on this matter. It was excessively distressing for me.

I clarified my stance by initially informing Ilona that 2022 had been a challenging year for my mental health. I experienced a stroke following a COVID-19 infection in February, my daughter’s visa to stay with me in my adopted home was rejected, and she was expelled from the country. My daughter, being 16 years old, was considered too old for a family reunion visa and had to seek an adult visa instead.

Furthermore, my partner of 25 years expressed a desire to live separately from me. Although the stroke (technically an ischemia triggered by severe migraine attacks caused by my COVID-19 infection) fortunately did not result in paralysis, I have since endured severe neuropathic pain, and the ongoing pain and fatigue have rendered me incapable of working, leading to significant financial difficulties.

Moreover, my profession as a space scientist has confronted me over the past four years with tangible evidence of climate change—solid climate data collected from Germany’s low Earth orbit remote sensing and climate monitoring initiatives, along with climate models developed by climatologists at Humboldt University Berlin. These sources unequivocally indicate alarming climate forecasts for us all.

At that moment, I was sweating, my legs were trembling, and the acute neuropathic pain radiating down my leg was worsening, as it often does during moments of emotional turmoil.

For some of the most susceptible regions on the planet, including sub-Saharan Africa and other equatorial areas like Bangladesh and Pacific Island nations, the climate forecasts are dire, predicting the collapse of essential public services such as health, education, and support for society’s most vulnerable. This foretells profound suffering within these communities, which will disproportionately bear the consequences of the affluent West’s excesses.

I have made the firm decision to distance myself from this area of research in the future. While I do not dispute its fundamental importance to human efforts in alleviating the impending hardships resulting from our deterioration of Earth’s biosphere, I do not possess the emotional resilience required to endure the relentless barrage of clear-cut data and conclusions drawn from this field. Engaging with this discipline’s grim forecasts prevents me from being emotionally available to those I cherish.

At that moment, I was sweating, my legs were trembling, and the intense neuropathic pain that shot down my leg was escalating, a common reaction I experienced under emotional distress.

Initially, Ilona respected my wishes, and we devoted the remainder of our dinner to discussing her family.

Subsequently, she invited me to her apartment, where we continued our reunion over coffee and delicious ice cream. By then, I had recuperated and was eager to delve further into catching up with Ilona.

However, despite my explicit expression of my boundary and the evident emotional turmoil the topic caused me, Ilona once again broached the subject of “climate change.” She voiced her skepticism, labeling it a “scheme and a fraud,” criticized “individuals like myself who advocate for keeping coal underground and supposedly deny impoverished nations their economic development,” and echoed the standard repertoire of intellectual dishonesty that climate change skeptics commonly resort to. She smugly claimed that I was “at a loss for words” when she forced me to watch brief YouTube clips that recycled the familiar, discredited arguments I’ve encountered countless times before.

No, Ilona, I was not “at a loss for words” by your selected video clips, which lacked any contributions from accredited climatologists and recycled the same outdated denial rhetoric that has been prevalent for nearly three decades.

Instead, I was utterly astounded by your deliberate disregard for facts. And you blatantly disrespect a clearly defined boundary. I had hoped you would have shown more significant concern for my well-being. Upon returning home, I was so distressed that I vomited and found myself unable to sleep for the next three nights. The breach of my boundaries by Ilona triggered flashbacks to my near assault in Berlin, strikingly evoking a similar cascade of emotions.

The underlying issue was the same exaggerated sense of entitlement exhibited by Ilona and the detestable individual in Berlin.

Insular news media and illusions of superiority are significant detriments. Ilona is not devoid of intelligence; on the contrary, as I have pointed out to her, the obstinate attitude of someone like her, despite her evident intellect and capacity for logical thinking, alongside her educational and considerable financial advantage, represents one of the most disheartening aspects of the challenges humanity faces. Her exploitation of less affluent nations as collateral in her argument against environmental concerns was executed without the slightest irony. Was she unaware of the recent catastrophe in Pakistan, where a third of the country was submerged under unprecedented floodwaters? Or of the perpetual struggles and shortages that plague sub-Saharan Africa?

She likely needed to be more aware of the challenging task of explaining to outsiders the insularity and exceptionalism characteristic of Ilona’s culture, not to mention the high degree of news media concentration in Australia. Where I reside, Germany faces similar issues — casting a glance towards the legacy of Axel Springer — but to a lesser extent, merely leaving Germans with the notion that they grasp the perils of media commercialization and consolidation.

Even the United States boasts a divided media landscape, starkly contrasting Australia’s virtually monopolized one, dominated by the Murdoch empire. Its leading newspaper, “The Australian,” is touted by individuals like Ilona as the periodical for the intellectually inclined. The federal government’s Australian Broadcasting Corporation, perceived within Australia as a progressive and credible news outlet, is, in reality, docile and overly nationalistic in its perspective, rarely challenging the government that perpetually menaces its funding.

Numerous dire events profoundly affected Europe in 2022 — the severest drought in five centuries, drying up significant rivers like the Rhine, Loire, and Danube, the wildfires decimating the exquisite World Heritage Site of Saxon Switzerland, or the tangible dread of nuclear conflict looming over my hometown of Berlin — scarcely made headlines in Australia.

Australia’s culture is paradoxically insular and suffocating despite its ethnic diversity. Somehow, Ilona’s mainstream WASP culture appears to dominate the nation’s political landscape over time increasingly.

Capitalism is devastating our planet. The value of life surpasses that of money.

The capitalist framework persistently exhausts every vital resource within our planet’s biosphere until its eventual dismantlement. People like Ilona, meanwhile, benefit from their intelligence — that is, a combination of genetic fortune and material wealth from their upbringing and throughout their lives that enables them to utilize their intellect. In essence, their privileged circumstances offer them choices unavailable to many.

Ilona seemed less concerned with the substance of her arguments and more focused on their impact on me. She portrayed herself as a person who “advocates for truth unemotionally” and believes in the “impartial exchange of ideas” through debate. She employed terms like “unemotional,” “objective,” “balanced,” and “neutral” without a hint of irony, even as the atmosphere was charged with her evil, destructive joy as she described her confrontations (notably, often with women) through her “proficient debate” skills.