TW: Suicidal ideation

I am in my mentor’s office on a cold, rainy Friday afternoon before the holiday break. Tears are pouring down my face. I am unable to think straight and cannot tell right from wrong. A chill runs down my spine and I realise it has become impossible to do research. I am overwhelmed with dread at the thought of spending another year in my thesis lab, and writing a dissertation feels unimaginable. I feel trapped, isolated, and unwelcome, and suicidal thoughts have crept into my head. Over time, I have lost my purpose and wanted to quit science. I hit rock bottom. Sexual harassment has taken a heavy toll on me.

Four years before what I described above, I applied to graduate school because I loved science. The idea of discovering the unknown was intriguing. It was fun to see where the data took me. I loved the enthusiasm and passion that I saw from other scientists. It was infectious. The comradery that science brought was incredible. Most important to me, I loved how science provided the opportunity to mentor and help others. It was really cool to see people progress in their careers and watch them succeed. I hoped to help others the same way my mentors had helped me. 

In my first year in graduate school, I rotated through several labs. At the time, I told myself to pick a lab based on how I got along with the mentor and the lab culture they established. My interest in science would come naturally. As long as I was interested in science, it would not matter what the dissertation topic was to satisfy my curiosity. However, as a stressed and anxious first-year graduate student, I went against my advice. I ignored the red flags I saw from my rotation and picked a lab based on the topic of research. At the time, I did not know anything about the field that the lab studied and techniques used thus, I felt that the lab gave me the best opportunity to grow as a scientist. However, I was concerned about the lab culture and what the daily dynamics would be within the lab. At the time, I thought that I could handle these minor concerns. No situation is perfect, right?

I did not foresee how severe those red flags would become. Like a disease left untreated, minor concerns worsened into sexual harassment (behaviours that made me feel physically and emotionally not safe, to control me). This included uncomfortable comments, invasion of personal space, inappropriate touching, stalking, gaslighting, and manipulation. For me, it was not just one thing that my lab mate did that constituted as sexual harassment. It was the combination of things that they did. At first, it was very difficult to know if they were “joking” or if it was something more sinister. As time went on, more and more layers of sexual harassment built up. The culture in the lab allowed sexual harassment to flourish. The favouritism displayed in the lab created a breeding ground for a hostile environment and, as the years went on, the sexual harassment I experienced became more and more severe. 

The Beginning: “You look like a snack.”

At first, my lab mate would make uncomfortable comments about my appearance. Words like, “You look like a snack.” I never said anything to this. I just tried to laugh it off because I did not want to cause problems in the lab. I grew up as a people pleaser. I hated being a troublemaker. Over time, my sexual harasser began to touch me inappropriately and invade my personal space. When I was sitting at my desk, they would touch and grab me inappropriately, standing inches away from me. I could feel their breath on me, and my skin crawled when they did this. They began to intrude on my work and micromanage how I did research. For a while, this only happened when we were alone in the lab. I never reported this because I did not want to be considered a troublemaker. I continued graduate school in silence. However, it would not end here. As the years went on, they became bolder. 

To cope with this, I first tried to normalise their behaviour. I even tried to be friends with my harasser. I thought that if I normalised the situation, I would be at peace, and the issues would disappear. My goal was to get through graduate school without causing any trouble. I was in survival mode. However, with help from friends, I realised that normalising it was doing more harm than good to my mental health. In my third year of graduate school, I was out with friends and my harasser. My friend was disturbed by the way my harasser treated me that night. For months, my friend told me that the way my harasser treated me was abusive. My friend told me that they can see how I was shying away and no longer acting like myself. My friend helped pull the curtains from my eyes and made me realise how bad the harassment was. 

Prior to my friend’s help, I spent over a year trying to convince myself that my harasser was only joking around and that my negative feelings were not real. To be told by people that I am overly sensitive and that things were not as bad as I thought they were made it hard for me to trust myself. I felt like I was always stressed and nervous to talk to people and could not tell what was real anymore. I felt like I could not trust my thoughts or feelings. My friend helped me realise that my feelings and the harassment was real. 

A Critical Incident

Over a three-year period of enduring harassment by my lab mate, I had given them plenty of opportunities to stop. After my conversation with my friend, I tried to distance myself as much as I can from my harasser. But that was impossible since we worked in the same lab. During my fourth year in graduate school, I told them to stop, told them how it affected me, and warned them that I would report them if they continued. Nonetheless, they persisted in sexually harassing me. The more I pushed back, the more aggressive they became. For example, I was at a departmental happy hour with students and faculty, and the person who was sexually harassing me was also there. To avoid causing trouble, I tried my best to avoid them as much as possible. I stood at the opposite end of the room from them. Being sexually harassed in the lab constantly made me feel like I was always walking on eggshells. At social events, I felt safe and could relax; it was my time to not worry about being harassed and catch up with friends. It was crucial to me not to allow my sexual harasser to damage my social life, like my lab life. Despite my best efforts to avoid them, however, my harasser approached me. I felt their body press up against me. At one point I needed to lean down to pick up an object from the floor, and they slapped and grabbed me in front of everyone. I went home, crying, feeling embarrassed. It became common to be sexually harassed in public.

I believed the person used sexual harassment to control, manipulate, and establish dominance over me. They would constantly try to find my limit and push my breaking point. I could not do experiments without them voicing their opinion. They would track my every movement. They always knew where I would go and kept tabs on me. They knew my schedule and what meetings I had. I could not even get a cup of coffee with a friend without my harasser knowing about it. I was afraid to come to school. I no longer felt safe. They knew that I feared the repercussions if I reported them. I was afraid to be a troublemaker. However, after what happened at the departmental happy hour, I knew it would be impossible to continue graduate school if I did not do something. The next day, I warned my harasser one last time to leave me alone. Regardless of this, they grabbed my shoulder wanting to talk in private. Overwhelmed with emotion, I filed a complaint for sexual harassment to my advisor.

Reporting the Harassment: Why I Waited to Speak Out 

I reported my lab mate for sexual harassment to my advisor near the end of my fourth year in graduate school. I had a meeting with my advisor in their office and they said that I should have reported them sooner and this could have been avoided. I do not think they realized that reporting my lab mate for sexual harassment was one of the most challenging things I have ever done. It took me almost four years to gain the courage. The favouritism and lack of support made it feel like there was a shield protecting my harasser. Once I reported that I was being sexually harassed, I felt like my world flipped upside-down. I did not want people in the department to know that I was being sexually harassed. I feared that people would view me as causing trouble if I reported the person especially since the person was liked by some of the faculty. 

Once I realised that I would not make it through graduate school if the status quo remained, I became fearful. I felt like I was in survival mode, as each minute felt critical. I had all these questions swirling in my head. If I reported the person for sexual harassment, how would they retaliate against me? How would this affect my relationship with my advisor? Would the lab and department treat me differently? How would this impact my career? All these fears kept me silent. After that departmental happy hour, however, I realised that my immediate well-being was much more important than where I would be after graduate school. There might not be any science career in the future if I kept my silence. I lost my passion for science and began to wonder if I was cut out for it. I was starting to think of quitting science altogether.

Once I reported my lab mate for sexual harassment the issue was no longer between my harasser and me. It became an issue for my advisor and the school as well. Since we were both students, there were a lot of protections for my lab mate. We were not allowed to speak to each other nor speak of the situation to anyone due to fears of retaliation against the school. We were assigned to different bathrooms, and I was expected to share a schedule with the harasser to avoid running into them on weekends. However, we were expected to work in the same space together and proceed as if nothing occurred. I was not allowed to tell anyone anything and had to pretend that everything was fine. I felt like I was being punished for reporting them. If I spoke of the situation to anyone, I could have gotten in trouble with the school. 

Since we were both students, there was no real punishment that could occur. The only option was to quickly graduate the person. I chose not to pursue a formal investigation because the outcome would have been the same. It would have taken about half a year, and I would have had to go through interviews and provide witnesses. It seemed torturous to relive everything if the investigation occurred, especially knowing that the person would not have received a real punishment. In the end the person received a Ph.D., a position elsewhere, and no record of what they did. To be told that the harasser did good work and deserved their Ph.D. made me feel deflated. My concerns fell on deaf ears and was expected to move on. I felt like I was not being understood or heard. I felt like a troublemaker, and I wanted to quit graduate school.

Living With the Consequences

In my experience, the effects of sexual harassment do not end when the harasser leaves. The toll sexual harassment had on me did not end when the person graduated from the program. In my view, things felt unresolved. The sexual harasser quickly received their Ph.D. and got a job with no record of what they did. Once other parties got involved, they did not seem to come with the intent to resolve the situation but instead how to silence it. I felt handcuffed. I was not allowed to speak of what happened to anyone. I was to pretend that everything was fine and go back to the normal times of graduate school. As if nothing happened. For me, there was no ordinary time in graduate school. So, what am I supposed to look back to? I felt defeated and lost my passion for science. I could not take my research seriously anymore. How could I? Things being left unresolved and pretending that the situation never happened left me feeling isolated and unsupported. My outlook on science and my future seriously changed. I began to question if science was for me. 

Looking back, I am incredibly grateful to my peers who have helped me get through graduate school. I sincerely thank my mentor for helping me through this dark period. My mentor not only listened to me; they empathised and really heard me. At my lowest points, when I felt isolated and unwelcome, my mentor always went out of their way to reassure me and lift me back up. My mentor gave me the support I needed, and I felt a sense of belonging again. Although it may seem small, being heard gave me the push and encouragement I needed to overcome this difficult time. Without their support, I may have quit science.

I now embrace being a troublemaker. Not in the sense of someone who breaks the rules and creates problems, but someone who breaks norms and challenges the status quo to spark change. This whole time, I was afraid of being labelled a troublemaker. I worried that by talking about how sexual harassment affected me, I was only causing “headaches” for people and creating problems. The lack of support from my advisor made me question whether these problems were even real. I even blamed myself at times for everything that happened. I now realise that being a troublemaker is a good thing, and I embrace it. Things cannot change without causing some good trouble. 

I think my silence empowered my sexual harasser and those who wished to keep the status quo. I firmly believe we need to take diversity, equity, inclusivity, and belonging (DEIB) efforts as seriously as our own research to cultivate an environment that is supportive of everyone. From faculty to students, I believe we all need to embrace being troublemakers and speak up when injustices occur. Speaking up will raise awareness and help destigmatize discussing incidents of unethical behaviour, as well as mental health issues in academia.

My Plans for the Future

Overall, I believe that this experience has made me a more empathetic person. I empathise with people more and prioritise people’s well-being more than research. I was very science-driven early on in graduate school. I would be excited about the newest result and interested in seeing where the data took me. Now, I view research as a vehicle to help others. I love to see others succeed and to see people progress. I do my best to make sure people are happy. In academia, we can get caught up about prestige and reputation, but we must remember our humanity and people’s well-being. Does our scientific success matter if we are not helping others out along the way?  

Despite everything that happened, I feel renewed and energised, and I have found my purpose again. I plan to complete a postdoctoral position and become a professor one day to help others, as my mentor helped me through this difficult time. I will empower the next generation of scientists and prioritise their well-being. I will continue to be a “troublemaker” and hear what others go through. We know from research and other stories shared at this blog that experiencing bullying and sexual harassment in academia is not unique. By sharing my story, I hope my experience will help those who experience sexual harassment feel less alone and to contribute to DEIB efforts. 

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