e. jean carroll

The E. Jean Carroll vs. Donald Trump rape trial is, no doubt, eliciting a lot of understandable reactions in sexual assault survivors.* I'm a psychotherapist who, for years, has been privileged to work with many survivors. I used to consult to a rape crisis center. I don't need to hear one word of a trauma story to do trauma work, but I've heard countless stories. Stories of hope, of shame, of fear, of anger, of grief and betrayal. Stories of atrocious violence. Stories of glorious resilience.

I've watched police be respectful and kind to someone as they're reporting their assault. I've also seen police be dismissive and blaming and horrible, forcing a person, often still in what is colloquially known as shock, to prove that the "encounter" was not consensual or that she was no somehow "asking for it." I've witnessed people become "disgusted" with their partners who were assaulted, and so they leave or divorce such "damaged goods." I've heard how friends no longer know how to talk to a person, treating them like they're fragile beyond measure or as if they're contagious and if you get too close then you'll somehow become infected. I've known employers who fired their employees because they didn't have a "legitimate" reason for taking time off from work to process and integrate such a fragmenting experience. I've heard how people have been excommunicated from previously close-knit families or neighborhoods because they dared to name that an uncle or a brother or a woman down the street was their perpetrator. There have been beautiful stories of solidarity and support, too. But all too often, contending with the shaming, cruel reactions from others adds very real trauma on top of trauma.