Content warning: This story features an instance of sexual assault.

On Feb. 17, 2026, also known as Tequila Sunrise, the last day of Mardi Gras for many Tulane University students, all students, faculty, staff and administrators received an email from Tulane University Police Department titled “TIMELY WARNING – FONDLING – NEAR THE UPTOWN CAMPUS.” 

The email stated that a victim was standing with friends when an unknown person grabbed their genitalia and then fled. I was the victim. This happened to me. 

For six years, I’ve done advocacy and sexual violence prevention and response work. What led me to this work was a sexually abusive relationship I experienced at the young age of 14. Knowing that there was something I could do to help made me feel better; activism helped me heal. 

At Tulane, I became a certified sexual aggression peer advocate and educator. I have received 80 hours of training, led workshops, worked sexual aggression hotline shifts and provided in-person survivor support. I thought that I would never experience sexual violence again because I had all this training, but I was wrong. 

During Tequila Sunrise, around 6:15 a.m., my friends and I decided to go in front of The Boot Bar and Grill to watch the sunrise, a classic Tulane tradition. We walked together as a group and stood in a crowd. I was wearing a baggy Mike Wazowski long-sleeve onesie that covered my whole body, and I was not drinking. 

All of a sudden, a man I had never seen before walked past my friends, grabbed my vagina and walked away while holding hands with another woman. It happened so fast that none of my friends even noticed. 

I went into shock and yelled, but he left before I could do anything. I had such a fun Mardi Gras, and I didn’t want it to ruin it, so I blocked it out. We were there for 15 more minutes, and then I went home to sleep. 

When I woke up, I called my mom. As I started telling her about the end of Tequila Sunrise, I processed what had happened to me and started bawling my eyes out. I was sexually assaulted again, something I had prayed that I would never experience again in my life. 

I walked myself to TUPD to file a report.

There I was in the TUPD office being interrogated by police officers with my water bottle that had a sticker that stated “Ask First. Consent is Mandatory,” while filing a report of sexual assault. It felt unreal. 

The police told me about procedures, laws and policies that I already knew like the back of my hand from all my training. I was supposed to be an advocate on this campus, not a survivor, yet here I was. Students talked to me about the TUPD alert, people on Fizz were making jokes and gossiping for their own entertainment, and little did they know this had happened to me.

That’s the thing about sexual violence: You can be very educated on the topic and do everything you are “supposed” to do, but it can still happen to you. 

We are told to have a buddy system or be with a big group of friends, and that’s exactly what I did. Rape culture and victim blaming tell us not to get too intoxicated, and I was not. It blames the victim’s clothes for their assault. But I was sexually assaulted while wearing a baggy onesie, not the day I wore a pink lace bodysuit with heart nipple pads. 

But it does not matter what I was wearing because clothing should not dictate respect. 

Even if I were alone, drunk and half-naked, it is not a green light to be sexually assaulted. 

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, a month dedicated to raising awareness, educating on prevention and supporting survivors of sexual violence. I invite everyone reading this to take space and make space this month. 

Sexual violence, unfortunately, is very prevalent on our campus, but we can work together to end rape culture and support survivors. This has to be a group effort to achieve the change we want. 

To survivors:  If you feel like people do not believe you, I believe you. If you feel like people don’t validate your experience, I do. If you feel alone, please know that there are many people and resources here to support you and be there for you. 

I see you, and I’m here for you. 

Healing is not linear, and I hope you can be patient with yourself. To those who haven’t experienced sexual violence, I encourage you to be an active bystander and support those who have experienced it.