We’re all feeling the emotional toll of cases like Sarah Everard’s

The news this past week about Sarah Everard’s death – at the hands of serving police officer Wayne Couzens – weighs heavily on us all.

First and foremost, we are left thinking of Sarah’s family and friends, for whom the true impact of this terrible loss was highlighted so poignantly in Sarah’s mother’s statement. “I yearn for her,” she said. Even re-reading the statement back, here and now, after a week spent covering these awful details, it still makes me cry. I can’t help but think of my own daughter, particularly when I also read of Sarah’s family keeping her dressing gown, because “it still smells of her and I hug that instead of her”.

For women working in the media, where we are saturated with pitches, breaking stories and opinion pieces, the news cycle recently has been particularly tough to handle. First, we read (and wrote) about the shocking death of Sabina Nessa, who died after being attacked while on a short walk to meet a friend at a local pub in southeast London. Then, the shocking details about Sarah Everard’s murder emerged: the fact that Couzens made a false arrest, handcuffing her before kidnapping, raping and ultimately taking her life.

There’s a palpable sense of sorrow, sympathy – but also fear. We react to the news agenda as best we can, because it’s all “part of the job”, but we also have these words ringing in our ears: “It could be me, next.” Not just because so many of my colleagues are living and working in London, where these two tragic murders took place, but because – quite simply – we are women. We recognise the fact that wherever we live, we are never truly safe, not in our own homes, not on the streets, in taxis or on public transport.

We’ve since found ourselves taking to Twitter, where we express our collective rage as best we can – but still feel impotent. After all, what can we really do to protect ourselves when the best advice from the institution designed to protect us, the police force – the very same institution Couzens was a member of – advises us to “flag down a passing bus” or to “shout and run away” if we don’t trust a male officer?

Speak to any woman about this past week and chances are she’s feeling heavy with emotional fatigue. We all are. For those of us who can’t just “switch off the news”, because we work in it – or who have been sexually assaulted – it’s more important now than ever to “check in” on each other; to find out who’s covering (or editing) which kind of story and make sure it’s not unduly triggering.

Aftercare is more important now than ever: with friends, family members, strangers and colleagues. And for those of us who (as editors) commission freelancers, we should be doing these kinds of pastoral follow-ups routinely with any woman who writes for us and shares their trauma. Sticking together and supporting each other has never been more vital than in a time of crisis. And women really are in crisis.

Yours,

Victoria Richards

Voices senior commissioning editor