By Tiffanie Reynolds | firstname.lastname@example.org
With his hands around my neck, I looked up at the man standing in front of me, and for a split second I didn’t know what to do. Running through the list of moves I just learned, I sandwiched my hands against his palm and shoved his arms off of me to the applause of the other women in my group. “Good job,” he said, before walking over to the woman standing next to me and testing her with another move.
Outside of the Virginia Room, it was a scenario that I always carried in the back of my mind but assumed would never happen. I would like to think I could defend myself, but barely reaching five feet I knew it was unlikely.