ByMegan Anderson, writer at
Aussie WMMA fighter | IFC 145lb fighter | MeganA_mma - IG/Snapchat | Tattoo Collector
Megan Anderson

When I made my first blog post, I promised that I would tell you all how I was inspired to become a fighter. It’s not a pleasant story, but it ultimately led to the realization that MMA was going to be my career path, and for a girl that sort of wandered a bit in life, this was a big thing.

I had always wanted to try boxing, and I used to go to some of the local fights here. So, one weekend some friends and I decided to check out an MMA event. I went to a local gym to pick up the tickets, but ended up not even attending the event because of a friend’s birthday party.

While at this party, which was being held at a club, I ended up getting my drink spiked and finished the night off in a hospital because some psycho put the date rape drug in my drink.

It’s really weird, because I’m not a big drinker, and since I’d left the army, I had hardly drunk alcohol at all. I got to the party later in the night, around 10:30 or 11:00 pm, and the incident happened around midnight. I’m not exactly sure when or how my drink was spiked, but it was and my night took a southward turn pretty quickly after that.

I remember that I was talking to someone, and all the sudden my ankles just couldn’t hold my body up anymore. It was so weird. I managed to walk upstairs, outside of this club to where the taxi queue was. We have a taxi rink, where the taxis are lined up and when you come out of the club, you line up to get the taxis as they drive up. It’s first come, first serve. I’m not sure if you have them here, but that’s generally how it is in Australia.

I swear I stood in that taxi rink for hours. That’s what it felt like, anyway. We were driving back to where I was living, and we had to stop halfway through so I could throw up, which is odd because I’ve never thrown up as a result of drinking alcohol, and I hadn’t drunk that much, either.

I don’t remember getting from that midway point to the hospital. I do remember hearing the cab driver calling for an ambulance, but after that, it was blank. The next thing I can recall was waking up in a hospital at six in the morning.

They said they managed to breath test me at the hospital (I don’t even remember that happening), and found that I had very low levels and should not have reacted to the alcohol this way. I still should have had my faculties about me, so they tested my blood and found GHB in my system.

That night freaked me out so bad that I decided right then I need to do something to protect myself. That was in May of 2013, and that was when I started ass kicking training. Through no fault of my own, I almost became the victim of a predator.

Because of that experience, I’ve made a conscious choice to do everything in my power to not become a statistic. My MMA journey is a direct result of that, and for me, is the most important step to ensuring that night doesn’t repeat itself in my future.

I’d like to end this post with a pretty useful guide I found on preventing date rape. Forewarned is forearmed.


Latest from our Creators