For the first time in seven years I didn’t watch Love Island. I just couldn’t.
Just hours before the first episode the news broke about the latest wolf in police clothing – guilty of 80 vile sex attacks on 12 women over 18 years, shattering the very last flimsy belief that women matter. That might sound over the top, but that’s how it feels.
We’re not safe, even with those meant to protect us. It makes me frightened. And incredibly angry. And it’s robbed me of the ability to give an entertainment show the benefit of the doubt about the treatment of women.
