Last night, I ran to the grocery store with my daughter. Like a normal child, she dilly-dallied. I felt that familiar concern every woman knows when walking through a parking lot at night. I urged her to hurry. When she asked why, I fumbled. I wasn’t ready to admit, “because we’re women the world isn’t as safe for us.” This is a conversation I will never need to have with my son. These are words I should never have to speak to my daughter. I’m sick of accepting violence.