When abuse is your first memory, it colors who you are.
I was molested when I was a preschooler, and it has rippled through my life ever since. The “predator” was a 17-year-old kid who lived across the street. And knew my family well.
Abuse happens. It is scary and horrific and life changing, and we victims are all terrified it will happen to our children the way it happened to us.
But we have to be honest about where abuse happens. It is so very very rarely a stranger in a public restroom.