In 2026, the National Sexual Violence Resource Center marks the 25th anniversary of Sexual Assault Awareness Month, calling it “25 Years Stronger: Looking Back, Moving Forward.” But if we’re being completely honest with ourselves, awareness just isn’t enough anymore—this month needs to be about accountability and truth for survivors. Lately, we’ve finally started seeing people speak up about things that have been ignored for far too long, especially the quiet, devastating overlap between sexual assault and domestic violence.
We see it in the headlines. We saw it in the deeply troubling allegations against Eric Swalwell, who stepped away from his run for California Governor. And we saw it in the absolute tragedy of former Lt. Governor Justin Fairfax and his estranged wife, Dr. Cerina Wanzer. Dr. Wanzer was a mother, a beloved Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority sister, a respected dentist, and a woman who had built a beautiful life and practice. Her life was stolen in a horrific murder-suicide during a messy divorce, following accusations against him of domestic violence and sexual assault. Her death breaks our hearts and forces us to ask urgent, painful questions we can no longer ignore. These stories bring up a reality that so many survivors already know intimately.
You know how it goes. The whispers. The side conversations. The people saying, “Well, everybody knew.” We watch powerful people get quietly protected, and then act shocked when the public outrage finally hits. These patterns don’t happen by accident. They grow in spaces where protecting someone’s power matters more than protecting the truth.
And then come the questions. Why did they wait? What were they wearing? Why did they stay? Why didn’t they leave sooner? We demand that survivors prove their pain in ways we never, ever demand of the people who hurt them.
That’s victim-blaming, plain and simple, and it’s exactly what lets abuse thrive. Abuse isn’t a misunderstanding. It’s a choice. It’s a pattern. Blaming the victim just feeds into the abuser’s belief that they are entitled to control someone else’s body, voice, and freedom.
Because of this, survivors are forced to do a heartbreaking reality check, weighing the cost of speaking out. Too often, they realize that staying silent feels safer than being torn apart in the court of public opinion. So the harm continues, and the people around them stay quiet because the abuser is charismatic, powerful, or well-connected. Let’s be clear: survivors don’t stay silent because they have nothing to say. They stay silent because they know exactly how they’ll be judged if they speak.
The truth is, people usually know. Colleagues, friends, and entire institutions hear the rumblings of abuse in the workplace. If we actually care about Sexual Assault Awareness Month, we have to do more than wear teal ribbons and post performative statements. We have to get uncomfortable. We have to demand accountability. We can’t keep putting abusers on pedestals because of their titles while reducing survivors to nameless footnotes in someone else’s story. Knowing about abuse without action is complicity. That has to end.
Instead, we need to lift survivors. We need to honor the immense courage it takes to come forward in a world that is still learning to listen to them rather than question their truth. We have to remember that healing doesn’t happen on a timeline that’s convenient for the public. A survivor shares their story when they finally feel safe enough to do so – and it’s on all of us to create that safety.
If you know someone who might be experiencing abuse, be their safe space. Offer them resources, give them your unwavering support, and help them find a pathway to safety without an ounce of judgment.
And if you’re in a position of leadership, your responsibility is even heavier. You have to build a culture where it is genuinely safe to report abuse. Take allegations seriously the very first time you hear them. Never protect a reputation at the expense of a human being. Accountability is the only thing that builds trust and helps survivors come forward sooner—so they don’t have to carry decades of silent suffering, the way Dolores Huerta and so many others have.
This is our moment to do better. We have to choose to believe survivors. We have to step in when we know someone is being hurt, and stop making excuses for abusers. We can’t claim to support survivors while interrogating them into silence. We can’t claim to value safety while shielding those who cause harm.
April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. Let’s do the hard work now, so that by next April, our conversations can finally be centered on healing, resources, and helping survivors move forward.