When Harassment Comes from Those We Trust

Recently, during a conversation with my four sisters about relatives and friends from our childhood, one of my sisters shocked us all.

“I was petrified of him,” she said, referring to a family friend. “He touched me inappropriately once when i was a child, and whenever he came over, I would hide behind Amma.” Her confession left us feeling betrayed, each of us realizing we carried hidden wounds of our own.

As more stories surfaced, it became clear that the very people we were taught to trust—our "uncles," "bhaiyyas," and "friendly neighbors"—had, in various ways, violated that trust. I remembered an uncle who once tried to touch me inappropriately and a "bhaiyya" who made a lewd gesture. These experiences, though fleeting, left a deep impact on me. I still carry the anger and hurt to this day, and strangely, I felt a perverse sense of justice when I learned that one lost his daughter, and the other died prematurely.

These incidents, though not what society might traditionally define as gross molestation, affected me profoundly, not just because they violated my personal space and bodily integrity, but because they betrayed my trust. They lasted mere seconds, but their impact has lingered for a lifetime. I now understand on a visceral level the pain that women who have endured more severe violations must carry.

Harassment in Public Spaces