By MIA FREEDMAN
I first noticed it after Jill Meagher died.
In the days that followed her tragic murder, everyone was united in shock and then sorrow. But there was something else there too; the chilling sense that ‘there for the grace of God go I’. Because almost every one of us could have been Jill.
Every woman knows what it feels like to be vulnerable to a possible random, violent attack because it’s something we live with every time we get into a cab with a strange man, walk alone in the street at night, walk to our cars in a deserted car park.
Our physical vulnerability is something we’re always aware of, even if it’s just a barely audible hum in the background of our consciousness.
Some will jump in at this point to insist most victims are not attacked by strangers. Most violence against women occurs within relationships or families. But that’s not what happened to Jill Meaghr and for the purpose of the conversations we all had after her death, that’s not what most women fear.
It’s the random, unexpected and opportunistic attack which ignites our anxiety and which we spent so much time mulling over after Adrian Bayley was arrested and charged with Jill’s rape and murder.
What happened after that sat uneasily with me; I became troubled by some of the rhetoric used in online discussions around this despicable crime. While many women desperately searched for something constructive to take from the tragedy and wanted to talk about safety strategies for women out alone at night, others angrily shut them down.
How dare you victim-blame, they railed indignantly. How dare you blame a woman for being attacked by a man. This is about men who rape and murder, not women who walk home alone. Why should women change their behaviour? It’s the attackers who are the problem and we need to focus on them.