Today I found out one of my close friends was burgled in the middle of the night. Thankfully, she and her family are fine.

Feeling like your personal, safe space was invaded is the absolute worst feeling and unfortunately, one I know well. 

Talking to my friend about this, I was reminded when I was burgled in my one of my first apartments. Neither my roommate nor I were at home, but we came home to an unlocked door, and had to figure out what was missing.

After much searching around the apartment (probably only for five minutes because the place was so small), those missing items were my underwear and bras. From right out of my dresser.

My bedroom was closer to the door in our tiny apartment but clearly it was enough stuff for our burglars because nothing else was taken. Nothing! The TV, VCR (yes, this was years ago) and microwave were probably our only electronics. But clearly, our burglers were after undergarments. 

I was so grossed out that some stranger had been in my bedroom and even more so in my dresser drawers, I WASHED EVERYTHING in my dresser (obviously there were no more underwear or bras), my bedding and my comforter and even my rug. Just knowing someone was in my bedroom and small apartment totally freaked me out.

Today I told my friend that the feeling of ICK will lessen but I warned her that now she will always check the door before bed, when you get home and when you leave to make sure it was locked. But between all of us, locks are for honest people.

If theres a funny story that came from my break in, which of course there would be when underwear and bras were stolen, and we were unharmed, it was this…

My roommate, M, and I arrived home to an unlocked door and immediately called the police. When they arrived, they needed to see the crime scene – my bedroom. I had to describe the colors, sizes and material of the missing goods for the police report. To two 22 year old girls, of course the cops were hot. Of course I only wanted to tell them about my pretty underwear and lacy bras. M made sure she told the hot cops about the granny panties and ugly bras that should be added to the police report. Talk about embarrassing. What was a little unnerving was that they had told us we weren’t the first to be burgled this way in recent days.

Even more nerve racking, for the better part of the next month, every time I walked out of the building, I thought I would find all of my stuff strewn over the plants and trees. That never happened. And I don’t think I would have ever worn any of it again if I found them.

At the time, I worked with some wonderful people who were aghast at what had happened. Together they supplied me with quite a few Victoria’s Secret gift cards so I could restock my drawers, literally. Because, yes, with the exception of some packaged underwear I bought at the grocery store, I was down to what I had been wearing the day I had arrived home – one bra and one underwear.

A few years prior to this incident, I was working at a bar in London, and while on shift, everyone had to put their stuff in lockers. Of course there were no locks. Classy place. Didn’t have much in my purse back then. Lost some cash, but others lost jewelry, whole wallets, etc. We all had to file our own reports with London’s Metropolitan Police. Not an experience everyone gets to have while living abroad.

Because everything needs to be taken in with perspective, let’s chalk these up to life experiences. Not too many people can say they were robbed of their underwear and bras. Nor can many say they were ripped off while tending bar overseas.