I. Am. Enraged. I am exhausted. I tried to take a break from Twitter over the last week as I just couldn't do it any more. The outpouring of rage and grief from women from a lifetime of fear, or of learning to fear, just got to me. Every time these kinds of outpourings happen it is an emotional load that spills over into everything else, and over the last few years we've had so many of them. It wasn't really until female colleagues at work began to check in with each other that I realised that I wasn't ok. I am so, so angry about the murder of Sarah Everard. But it wasn't really about her. It was about her being murdered on her walk home. Like so many women, I have experienced sexual harrassment walking down the street, been leered at and jeered at while cycling around, had men grope me on public transport and in clubs, and sat frozen for fear something might happen, even when it didn't. For those of us who have been working from home for the last year, those w