What do we tell a girl who asks ‘was it me?’

Seven-year-old me sauntered to the changing room after my swimming class, unaware of the lurking threat behind me. A staff member lunged forward, shouting as I attempted to flee. My mother arrived, and the man offered a false explanation of his presence, claiming to protect me. Having grown up around men, I recognized the inappropriate gaze for what it was.

Though the incident was quickly dismissed by my parents, it marked the beginning of an early awareness of my identity as a girl. This realization was not something I desired to endure at such a young age. Later in life, I encountered similar unwanted attention from older men, but the impact was far greater. The deeper my awareness grew, the more I despised any conversation with these men.

Reading about a minor rape survivor describing her "uncle" as someone to be jailed until old age reminded me of those early experiences. The judge's personal message to the child, while acknowledging her courage, left me feeling both exonerated and personally affected. The question women are left to grapple with—"Was it my clothes?

Was it my body? Was it me?"—is one we are unprepared to answer. As a society, we need a handbook that prevents violence rather than one that teaches women how to avoid it.