He was in his 90s – I never imagined he would sexually assault me
I had never considered the possibility that someone of his age could commit such an act. For years, I had assumed that if I faced sexual assault, it would come from a younger perpetrator, someone less established in their demeanor and more likely to act impulsively.
When the incident occurred, I froze instantly. My voice failed me, and I couldn’t even utter a single word. The man, who had once been my mentor and seemed both wise and reliable, stood before me with a triumphant smirk, his tongue tracing his lips as if savoring the moment.
Later, I realized the assault felt like part of a sequence, a calculated move woven into the fabric of a routine exercise. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. The pattern was subtle, almost unassuming, which made it harder to recognize.
During lockdown, when the world seemed to halt, I grasped a painful truth: life isn’t a dress rehearsal. The realization struck me deeply, especially as I prepared to pursue my passion for acting, something I had long delayed.
At five, I fell for the magic of performance. For years, I dreamed of studying under a famous teacher in Los Angeles, but obligations kept pushing the dream aside. Yet, a few years ago, I decided it was time to take the leap. His age, I thought, was an advantage—his experience would offer insights I couldn’t ignore.
On November 25, 2024, Metro launched
This Is Not Right
, a campaign to spotlight the ongoing crisis of violence against women. Partnering with Women’s Aid, the initiative aimed to reveal the depth of this national issue.
My first lesson was straightforward. He outlined basic acting principles, focusing on observation and memory. But as the session neared its end, he proposed a new exercise, his tone gentle as he instructed me to close my eyes and repeat his name when something “happened.”
Before I could react, his hand plunged into my jumper, swift and forceful. His assistant, a man in his 30s, remained silent, his gaze shifting away as if endorsing the act. The moment was both intimate and invasive, a violation disguised as a creative technique.
I was too stunned to question him immediately. His reputation—built on a long career and a mention of his wife—made the abuse seem almost inevitable. The teacher’s authority cast a long shadow, blinding me to the harm unfolding in front of me.
Later, I withdrew from the classes, though I stayed in LA for another month. A week after the assault, I received an email asking why I hadn’t returned for the second lesson. The audacity of his assumption left me speechless, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play.
Back home, I shared the story with others, hoping to make sense of it. Many had similar experiences, revealing how widespread the issue truly was. The teacher’s age and the way he integrated the abuse into a lesson were factors I hadn’t anticipated, yet they played a role in my hesitation to confront him.
Victim Support provides assistance to survivors of sexual assault. You can reach them at 0333 300 6389. Though I never attended another session, the incident lingered, a constant reminder that even trusted figures can become sources of harm.
