He grabbed my hair and struck me repeatedly with his fists. As I began to lose consciousness, I cried out for him to stop. Luckily, our cries for help finally alerted bystanders. Immediately, they intervened, saving me as I was beaten nearly to death.
LIMERICK, Ireland — On May 22, 2022, after finishing my promotional work at a bar, my friend and I decided to share a taxi home. While we waited for the taxi, we noticed a group of young men across the road. They aggressively shouted at a lone young man and hurled terrible homophobic slurs at him.
Driven by the group’s violent behavior, my friend intervened right away. She urged them to leave the guy alone. I backed her up, firmly demanding they stop using hateful language. Suddenly, one of the group members approached me, speaking in a threatening tone. Shockingly, they turned their aggression toward me.
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Remaining silent during the homophobic attack would make me partially responsible, so I intervened. When my friend argued with the group, I stepped in, determined to de-escalate the situation. I told the group to leave the man in peace. Unfortunately, my intervention led to a confrontation with one of the group members, who directly threatened me.
In disbelief, I stood frozen as his aggression turned toward me. He grabbed my hair and struck me repeatedly with his fists. As I began to lose consciousness, I cried out for him to stop. Luckily, our cries for help alerted bystanders. Immediately, they intervened, saving me as the man nearly beat me to death.
Following the incident, my friend and I reported the attack to the authorities. The Gardai [Irish Police Force] swiftly identified the attacker through CCTV footage. They further uncovered a social media group chat where the men involved openly joked about the assault. In the group chat, the man who assaulted me boasted to his friends, claiming it only took “two punches to put her down, two to put her out.” Sadly, the violent group found entertainment in the emotional and psychological trauma they inflicted on me.
Astonishingly, the investigation revealed that my attacker served as an active member of the Irish Army, part of the Irish Defence Forces. With specialized training to defend others, he instead used those skills to hurt me. The soldier’s fists, like deadly weapons due to their training, intensified the severity of the assault compared to the damage a civilian might inflict. In countries like Spain, authorities charge soldiers who use their fists in such assaults with using deadly weapons. A soldier, not a civilian, beat me, and that distinction matters. This was no ordinary assault, and I question why it was handled as one.
The judge left me stunned, choosing to give my attacker a three-year suspended sentence, valuing his army role over delivering justice. It felt insane to protect the man who beat me nearly to death while I suffered severely. As frustration mounted, I realized that despite Ireland’s history of lenient sentencing, I still hoped for a different outcome. However, they preserved his career.
Meanwhile, I lost myself. After leaving the courtroom, I expressed my raw emotions to reporters. With anger and disgust toward the justice system, I spoke openly. I criticized the leniency with which violence against women is treated, both in Ireland and globally. Women and girls grow up hearing the universal message, “Let me know when you get home safe.” Distressingly, we realize we only achieve safety in numbers, especially at night.
That was why my friend and I chose to take a taxi home that night. Yet, seeing a group of men outnumbering another young man who was minding his own business compelled us to act. Our protective instincts kicked in, even though the victim was a stranger to us. If something terrible happened to him, I would struggle to live with myself.
Ireland often portrays itself as the land of a thousand welcomes and a progressive country. However, we continue to grapple with significant issues, particularly within our system for protecting and supporting victims of violence and assault. Despite the flaws in the justice system, we actively support and assist our community with passion. Empathy and assistance define our humanity. Yet today, many people fear speaking out in support of others.
I refuse to watch something potentially life-threatening unfold without taking action. The public’s love, support, and encouragement since the sentence came down filled me with hope and strength. The day I walked away from the courthouse, I felt utterly alone, thinking, “What will I do now?” Nevertheless, the support and assurance from other women who fell victim to assault helped me realize I am not alone.
This realization renewed my sense of purpose. It pulled me out of the feeling of being lost that plagued me over the past few years. Undoubtedly, I cannot ignore the fact that victims still exist. Witnessing the perpetrators of violent crimes walk free feels deeply unacceptable. The overwhelming love and support I received fueled my hope that people will continue to advocate for women’s rights.
When the public stops addressing these issues, the government will follow suit. When authorities report a crime, they immediately focus on gathering evidence, but I felt they provided insufficient support to me. As a victim myself, I felt like just another piece of evidence in the aftermath of the attack. In Irish criminal law, it seems they forget that victims are humans, not just pieces of evidence with which to build a case.