I had let myself feel immortal. I believed that it was just name calling, that the effigies and the letters meant nothing, that they would never dream of really hurting me. The assault is a reminder of my sex, my size, my weakness. At least they could have sent someone my own size so I had a fair fight, but no, he was a giant of a man. I tried to push him away, but he caught me with his stick which sent me to the ground like a struck skittle. I curled up tight thinking he would come again and rain down blows on me and, as I feared for a moment, end my life. But he did not. Fortunately, he just wanted to scare me and left me cowering in the dirt until I regained my senses and staggered home.

I did not want the others to see, but I could not hide the blood pouring down my face and onto my clothes. I was shaken and half senseless and fell into my father’s arms. How weak of me; I am embarrassed.

How do I react to this, how do I move on? Now afraid to walk on my own land. Afraid to go outside. They want me to be afraid, to be a recluse, to hide away.

It is a reminder that what I reassure Ann and Marian, that we are safe, is a lie. We like to think that our place in society protects us, but the truth of it is we should all be afraid of them, of men, all of the time, as the only way to keep ourselves safe is to remain on our guard. I had let my guard down.

I shall have to carry a loaded pistol from now on. Damn them. Damn them all, is what I think. But I know not how I can win this.

Father sent an angry letter on my behalf to the newspaper for printing the wedding announcement, as the editors surely knew it would offend the Listers, long-standing supporters of the paper. He told them they should have checked with him first and should do so in future before printing any matters pertaining to the Listers. I let him write on my behalf. They replied with an apology. Now he wants to report the assault, but I beg him not to. It would not do any good. I never saw the man’s face anyway. He could have been anyone.

He is angry for me, but he can never understand what it’s like to be a woman. That we live with the constant fear that half the population is stronger than us and can overpower us at any time, without the slightest provocation. We women are the lion tamers, aware that our safety is an illusion, that the wildness can creep in any moment and the lion will remember his strength.