A few years ago, I had a terrifying experience while staying alone in a hotel.
At 6am, I was jolted awake by a man trying to get into my room - throwing his weight against the door again and again.
I couldn’t reach reception, so I called the police.
The call handler stayed on the line, coached me through what to say to get him to leave. Then called hotel reception staff to send help (they were useless) - and rang back later to check I was okay.
But hotel staff seemed irritated by the police involvement. When I checked out, they told me it was “just a drunk man" who said he'd got the wrong room.
At 6am in the morning.
A drunk man who may well have intended to attack or r*pe a woman.
Later, a male colleague said he felt I’d overreacted by calling the police. At times, I've wondered if he was right.
Today, a friend has told me she’s been diagnosed with PTSD - after a similar incident in a hotel.
Only her man stood outside her hotel room m*sturb*ting. He’d seen her earlier that night and knew she was alone.
She tried to call reception - but the number on the keycard was wrong. The website too.
Like me, she felt trapped in her room - so she called the police. They were brilliant - arrived quickly and arrested him.
But the hotel staff barely apologised.
The council housing the man in the hotel (despite his criminal record) didn’t seem to care either.
Turns out there was no CCTV in the corridors either.
And here’s the thing that stays with me:
I was made to feel like I’d overreacted.
But what I feared - the very thing women are so often told we’re imagining - happened to someone else.
Because of course, it does.