Raging On:

Five years after ‘Me Too,’ sexual assault epidemic remains out of control

By Mara Franssen

On a foggy evening in February, Jessica Lucia, 18, was spending time with a childhood friend. They walked along the Santa Cruz boardwalk and stopped to sit and listen to the waves. Alarm bells began ringing in Lucia’s head when her male friend tried to kiss her against her will — more than once. Lucia repeatedly said “no” and tried to push him away. He then proceeded to get on top of Lucia and rape her.

Stories like Lucia’s happen every 68 seconds in America. But despite the alarming prevalence of sexual assault, society too often ignores the problem.

Survivor and activist Tarana Burke first used the phrase “Me Too” on social media in 2006. Over a decade later, the two words went viral when actress Alyssa Milano tweeted ‘#MeToo’ on Twitter — sparking a movement resulting in survivors of sexual harassment, assault and abuse sharing their experiences on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

Yet nearly five years later, sexual assault and abuse still occur at an alarming rate.

In the last few years, some survivors have attempted to bring awareness to the sexual assault epidemic by identifying as a survivor on Instagram using hashtags such as #sexualassaultawareness and #sexualassaultsurvivor.

They share their stories with the hopes of empowering other survivors and letting the world know that not only is the ‘Me Too’ movement not over — it’s growing.

The complexity of sexual assault

80% of survivors are attacked by someone they know.

For Lucia, it was a childhood friend.

For Mel Depaz of Houston, Texas, it was a high school friend.

For Madelynn Ayen of Missouri, it was a first date.

For Kylie Adams of Georgia, it was a step-sibling.

For Ali Garcia of New York, it was a friend of a friend.

For Lindsey Daggett of Maine, it was her mom’s boyfriend.

For Mariah Eastman of Chicago, it was a college classmate.

Sexual assault is a complex problem because it takes many forms. It’s defined as any form of unwanted sexual contact, interaction or behavior without consent — including rape and unwanted touching or other sexual acts. Sexual assault is a violent crime involving force.

However, force is not only physical — it can also be emotional. Force can take the form of coercion, manipulation, intimidation or threats. This emotional manipulation often leaves survivors labeling rape as a “misunderstanding” rather than the violent crime it is.

Madelynn Ayen, who uses she/they pronouns, was assaulted at 18. She knew what happened to her was bad, but she didn’t understand it was sexual coercion until piecing together the attack during therapy.

“I never said ‘yes’ once,” Ayen said. “I said ‘I don’t know,’ but I was so uncomfortable I felt like I had to do it.”

The now 20-year-old wished she had learned about sexual coercion and other forms of assault in high school so she would have known what was happening in the moment — not after the fact.

Mel Depaz, 20, was sexually assaulted as a freshman in high school. She was 14 years old.

“At first things were consensual,” Depaz said. “And then he pushed a limit and I wasn’t comfortable with it. Then he refused to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Depaz had never received any sort of sex education up to that point and she didn’t understand what had transpired other than the fact someone had sex with her when she didn’t want to.

She also didn’t know to seek medical attention or file a police report — until two years later when she started therapy and finally began to process the rape.

Mind, body and spirit

Sexual assault is a traumatic event leaving survivors attempting to piece back together various parts of their life.

A myriad of symptoms can be experienced following an assault with depression, anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) most commonly known. A lesser-known result of sexual assault is body dysmorphia, a mental health disorder characterized by an intense fixation on appearance or body image.

Depaz didn’t begin to understand the attack until two years later when she started therapy — but her body did. Depaz opted for sweatpants, long sleeves and other baggy clothes after the assault to cover her body as much as possible.

“Everything changed after the assault,” she said. “I didn’t want to show anything above my knee.”

Ayen also struggled with body dysmorphia after she was raped. She described her body image as “completely depleted” following the assault. Ayen said the single most lasting impact the assault has had is her perception of her body.

“My body was violated,” Ayen said. “I have to live with my body for the rest of my life and there’s this battle between my body and my mind every single day.”

Ali Garcia said she suffered from “significant body dysmorphia disorder” after being raped at 19. She experienced weight gain, avoided mirrors and her reflection and over-exercised.

“There was a constant pain,” Garcia said. “No matter how much I worked out, I always felt different.”

“When sexual assault happens, it happens to the body. But it also happens to our mind, emotions, spirit and soul.”

— Lauryn Lucido

Lauryn Lucido, a licensed therapist with Woven Trauma Therapy, said the most frequently occurring theme she sees in sexual assault survivors is shame, along with "feeling dirty, wrong, bad [and] not good enough," she said. The cultivation of these feelings can manifest in different ways, often taking the form of body dysmorphia.

Body dysmorphia was not the only detriment to the survivors’ lives.

Depaz began using alcohol and drugs to cope with the intense feelings of guilt and shame. She said she went “head over heels” into substances and was an alcoholic by her senior year of high school.

Several years after the assault, Depaz sought the help of a therapist and was diagnosed with PTSD.

Mental health expert Lucido, explained, "when trauma happens your brain is coding the event as traumatic." Anything the brain registers as a similar sight, smell, sound, taste or feeling can trigger a trauma response. This response happens because the mind is trying to alert the body that it is in danger — whether or not that danger is actually present.

“Our brain makes these connections because that’s how we survive,” she said.

Daggett, who was sexually abused and assaulted from age six to 15, also received a diagnosis of PTSD. She often wonders about the person she would have become had she not endured a childhood of sexual abuse.

“I can’t help but wonder sometimes what would I be like had this not happened to me,” Daggett said. “Would I be this anxious? Would I have trouble with intimacy? Would I be more comfortable in my body?”

Power in reporting

Following a sexual assault, survivors are met with a tough decision — whether to report the crime to law enforcement.

Forty-eight hours after the rape, Eastman decided to report the assault to her university. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to pursue a criminal case.

“There’s such a low conviction rate for rape and sexual assault,” she said. “Is it worth it to pursue justice that may not actually get served?”

Eastman’s university sent her to the nearest emergency room to undergo a forensic exam and the rape kit was filed with the university police.

The university had a policy that if more than three cases were reported against the same person, then law enforcement must be called.

Six months after filing the rape kit, the university contacted Eastman. Her assailant had assaulted two other women and he was expelled from the university.

Last year, Eastman received a phone call from prosecutors in Maryland. Her college rapist had gone on to assault at least 11 more women in six years — and they needed her help putting him away.

Eastman, living in Chicago, attended the hearing via Zoom. She read a victim impact statement detailing how the assault had affected her and what she believed would be an appropriate jail sentence.

The serial rapist was sentenced to 30 years in prison.

In the year following the conviction, Eastman, a dance choreographer in Chicago, created a performance, "Navigating the After," to raise awareness for sexual assault and the arduous journey of healing.

Eastman had her dancers portray many emotions and themes often involved in the aftermath of an assault — including hesitancy, hyper-awareness, recurring nightmares, vulnerability and resilience.

'Dragged through the system'

The conviction in Eastman’s case is in the minority. 94% of rapists will not spend a day in jail.

Like Eastman, survivor Ayen also reported her assault to her university’s Title IX office. She ended up dropping the case because the university “wanted to drag out this already traumatic experience,” she said, referring to the lengthy investigation and the university’s court process in which Ayen would have to face her assailant.

“I never want to look at this person again,” Ayen said. “So why would you put me in a room with him?”

Ayen did not want to pursue a case with law enforcement because of the low conviction rate.

“I don’t think there’s ever been a system in place that’s been fair for sexual assault,” Ayen said. “There’s never been something that actually worked [and] I’ve rarely heard of situations where people actually got the justice they deserved.”

Beginning at age six, Lindsey Daggett endured nine years of sexual abuse and assault by her mother’s then-boyfriend until age 15 when she confided in her aunt.

Initially, Daggett didn’t want to report to law enforcement and face the tedious process of an investigation. But then, she thought, “if I don’t do anything, he’s just going to keep doing this.” So she reported it the next day.

In the beginning, Daggett had a positive experience with law enforcement. Growing up in the small town of Callus, Maine, everyone knew each other. The officer who took Daggett’s initial report was someone she had known since elementary school and he told her, “it’s not your fault what happened. I don’t care what he told you. You were a kid.”

Despite the affirming reaction of the officer, Daggett struggled with the interview process. “It was hard because you have to turn yourself inside out,” she said. It was difficult for Daggett to remember specifics about the abuse — and to this day, she still grapples with repressed memories.

"I still can’t remember certain things,” Daggett, now 29, said. “I just know they happened.”

Following the intense interview process, Daggett’s abuser was arrested. He made bail the same night.

The assailant lived a town over from Daggett but, while out on bail, frequently visited Callus where he owned a trailer park. Daggett often ran into him at the grocery store or other places around her small town.

The investigation continued to wreak havoc on Daggett’s life. The first trial date was set in 2010; however, the assailant requested — and was granted — numerous extensions and avoided going to trial for nearly two years. This allowed him to continue living and working as a free man out on bail.

“I had done everything on my part,” Daggett said. “I had gotten an examination [and] I was in therapy and was just being dragged through the system… Is this ever going to end?”

After two years of extensions, Daggett was now a junior in high school. The prosecutors offered her three options — accept $10,000 from the assailant in exchange for dropping the charges, accept a plea deal of the assailant serving 18 months in prison, or neither and proceed with the trial.

By this point, Daggett was exhausted by the two-year investigation and wanted it to end. She chose the plea deal of 18 months in prison.

“I’m tired,” Daggett said. “Let me just try and get on with my life.”

After 14 months in prison, the man who had sexually abused and assaulted Daggett for nine years, was released for ‘good behavior.’ The convicted sex offender went back to living in his trailer park — where children also called the park home.

Despite the lengthy investigation and underwhelming sentence, Daggett said it is important to report — regardless of the outcome.

At age 12, Kylie Adams was sexually abused by her dad’s girlfriend’s son for two years. He then raped her when she was 14 years old.

The rape haunted Adams, and after four months of silence, she confided in her mom. After speaking with other family members, it was revealed that Adams’s half-sister, who was nine-years-old, was also being abused by the same man.

At first, Adams did not want to talk to law enforcement. “I knew we would end up going to court one day and I was afraid to talk in front of everyone and tell them what happened,” she said.

Despite Adams’s initial reluctance to speak to law enforcement, a family member made a call on her behalf and an investigation began.

Adams wanted her assailant to serve a minimum of 10 years in jail. The prosecutor on the case assured Adams she would get a say in the matter. However, they ended up cutting a deal with the perpetrator.

Out of a 20-year sentence, he was only required to serve six years in prison and 14 years on parole.

“It’s like they completely forgot about [me] and they didn’t care,” Adams said, referring to the prosecutor’s decision.

“The defense has to convince one person on the trial jury that they did not do it. We have to convince twelve people that he did do it.”

— Jessica Lucia

Survivors Depaz and Lucia chose not to report because they weren’t aware of their options at the time.

Years later, this inspired Lucia to become a sexual assault advocate — a trained professional who helps survivors navigate the rocky aftermath of an assault to ensure that survivors are aware of their reporting options and rights.

As the lead sexual assault advocate at Empower Yolo in Woodland, California, Lucia often accompanies survivors to police interviews and court hearings. She has witnessed, more than once, how difficult it can be to receive a court conviction.

The District Attorney “heavily relies” on evidence collected during a forensic exam, Lucia said. And, she continued, it is "very easy" for the defense to claim consensual sex if no injuries are found during the exam — which is often the case.

Lucia said the D.A.’s office seems only to take cases they are sure of winning, making it difficult for survivors lacking overwhelming evidence to get the chance to face their assailant in court.

“Changes need to be made,” Lucia said. “I’m hoping to be a part of those changes.”

What next?

Depaz struggled with body dysmorphia, substance abuse and PTSD.

Six years after the assault, she returned to therapy and is looking into getting a service dog to help with her PTSD symptoms.

“I’m doing good now but it’s not the best,” Depaz said. “But that’s okay. I’m learning.”

Aside from the life-long process of healing, Depaz is working on getting her Bachelor’s of Fine Arts. She wants to be a package designer. In five years, she hopes to be living in the mountains or by the beach and starting a family with her girlfriend.

"I'm the voice for people going through what I've been through."

— Jessica Lucia

Lucia continues to assist survivors in their journey as a sexual assault advocate in California.

She is going back to school in January to get her masters in social work at Arizona State University to help enact policy change for sexual assault survivors.

Daggett has been working to help pass a state law in Maine restricting where convicted sex offenders can live. In five years, she hopes to be married and starting a family.

Ayen is pursuing a bachelor’s of fine arts in Missouri. After graduating, she plans to move to L.A. or New York to pursue acting. She wants to play a role of someone who has been sexually assaulted.

“It’s really important that I showcase that because there needs to be honest depictions of sexual assault, what happens after and what you have to life with for the rest of your life,” Ayen said.

Adams, 19, said she made a lot of bad decisions from ages 14 to 17 and she wishes she could go back, but since starting therapy, her life has turned around for the better. She is currently studying economics at the University of Georgia.

Experiencing first-hand the current legal system for survivors has inspired Adams to pursue a law degree after graduation to become a prosecutor to help survivors of sexual assault get the justice she didn’t.

Garcia still struggles with body dysmorphia but she's learning to be more comfortable within her body.

"Some days are good and some are bad," she said.

Garcia is a physician assistant in New York City and recently accepted a position in a surgical intensive care unit. She started her IVF journey in November with hopes of becoming a mom in the next few years.

Eastman is currently working on creating her own dance company to continue empowering others through dance. In ten years, she hopes it will be a nationally acclaimed company.

A strength in numbers

Garcia, now 38, described how alone she felt nearly 20 years ago when she was assaulted. At the time, she didn’t realize how many people also have stories like hers. Garcia kept the assault a secret from her family for three years before finally telling her mom — who, in turn, shared that she, too, had been assaulted when she was young.

“There are people out there that this happens to and they are silent,” Garcia said. “I think that no matter how painful, being able to share your story allows for other people to not only come out with their story but to begin the process of healing.”

“People have to get more comfortable with the uncomfortable. This is my story [and] this is what's wrong."

— Madelynn Ayen

Ayen waited a week until confiding in her family. She also confided in friends about the assault, and to Ayen’s surprise, two of her friends had similar experiences. Being able to confide in one another and share their survivor experiences was helpful to Ayen’s healing, she said.

At first, Daggett felt alone in her survivor journey. She didn’t know any other survivors at the time so she took to the internet where she found and read other survivor stories.

“There was a strength in numbers,” Daggett said. “It’s okay to talk about this.”

Daggett decided to share her experience because she wants “to make a difference.” She encouraged other survivors to speak out because you never know who you are reaching, helping or supporting by sharing your story.