864 Days: A Survivor’s Journey Toward Healing
*Content Warning: This contains discussion of sexual assault. It was written by a survivor who chose to remain anonymous and will go by ‘Jane Doe.’
As a survivor, I share these words with deep respect and honor for the fragile state I found myself in 864 days ago. While the experience of sexual assault and the subsequent journey is uniquely different for each survivor, I view my own path as one measured in days rather than years. Some days, you cry until there’s nothing left; on others, you scratch and claw to get through mundane tasks like getting out of bed or forcing yourself to eat. Many of the immediate days after the assault were often spent in a primal scream of tears mixed with a deep rage that filled an empty void, suggesting to me that I was alone, isolated in this strange new existence that can follow a sexual assault.
Feeling alone and disconnected, I often searched the depths of the internet to gain a deeper understanding of what drives a person to assault another. Longing for connection and comprehension, I sought the meaning behind why one human would so heinously violate another’s body- not out of a desire for sexual connection, but rather to satisfy their deep-seated need for power and control. I was determined to grasp the ‘why’ and ‘how’ such violence existed in our communities.
I remember those early days when I first came across a journalist’s deeply personal and powerful blog post about her sexual assault. The city where her assault occurred was the same as mine. While the graphic details of her story differed somewhat from my experience, for the first time, I felt as if I wasn’t alone. I certainly didn’t feel as brave or willing to speak publicly about my assault as she had, but there was something truly transformative in reading of another survivor who could validate my own pain, emotions, and sense of brokenness.
After a wave of tears, I found the vulnerability to email her and thank her for sharing her story. I assumed she would never read it, but after experiencing the depths of human depravity with the man who assaulted me, it felt like a small gesture to cultivate something kinder or gentler in this world. Much to my surprise, she responded and even offered to help me write my own public blog post one day. I never reached out again to take her up on her offer, perhaps still too wounded to revisit or acknowledge what an incredibly dark time that was in my life. However, I will always hold deep respect for that journalist’s blog and for what became a profoundly significant milestone in my healing journey.
As with this journalist, and through my following sharing of healing, you might come to understand that although I devoted many challenging hours to therapy, healing, and tears, it was ultimately a community of kind-hearted strangers on the internet, along with their respective contributions to milestones, that helped piece my broken self back together. They demonstrated that not all humans are horrendous or possess Machiavellian intent; in fact, it’s quite the opposite.
Assault can drastically alter one’s worldview, leading to a perception of all strangers as diabolical predators who prey on the most vulnerable, leaving no one trustworthy. However, in reality, the number of good-hearted individuals and organizations like Callisto far exceeds that of the monstrous ones. While predators who target our most vulnerable absolutely exist, they often operate in silence, isolated by their shame and cowardice. This stands in stark contrast to the public support and connections that technology like Callisto shares proudly and openly with others, aiming to genuinely transform lives by restoring the power once stolen back to the survivors.
The days following a sexual assault, the process of rebuilding one’s identity or simply learning how to shower or engage with a stranger in public again are truly some of the most challenging yet transformative days of my life. Healing certainly isn’t a linear journey, but I’m here to say it gets better. Some days you might scratch and claw to get through it. The next few days may bring a sense of love and support. Regardless of the day, keep pushing forward on your journey.
By day 748 of my own journey, I had finally reached a milestone I never thought possible back on day one. Through enough therapy, grit, and countless days of clawing just to hold it together, I began to reclaim my voice and power. During the initial days of this journey, I was covered in bruises, staring at a SANE kit tracking card on my kitchen counter, convinced my life would never be the same because I felt so broken. However, in the days leading up to day 748, I was once again able to see my own pain, story, and strength reflected in another survivor. She was interviewed in an article about the abhorrent actions and trauma inflicted by Jeffrey Epstein on his island. While the details of our stories differed, the common thread I connected with was her experience of acknowledging feelings of being trapped, isolated, and alone in a place where the abuser had full control. I found her painful share to be deeply contrasted by her obvious resilience and strength, which I greatly admired from afar.
Much like the journalist’s insight during those early days of my trauma, I felt less alone in this struggle, even if via the internet. I once again found the courage to write a deeply vulnerable note to her podcast, which left me with a vulnerability hangover for days after sending. However, her response was quick, sincere, and supportive, marking one of the greatest moments of my healing journey. On day 748, I stood in my truth, humbled to be in the same space with such a strong role model and compassionate team, sharing my story similar to the journalist’s account from those early, incomprehensibly dark days following my assault.
I eventually filmed the podcast and finally felt free. I was able to acknowledge that my shame wasn’t reflective of something I had done; it wasn’t mine to carry. This was his shame, his silent secret to bear, not mine from that day forward. Although I might have felt shattered in those early days, my resilience has shaped me into a stronger, more focused, and determined version of myself who cares even more deeply about others after the assault. I took his horror, his dysfunction, and his actions and transformed those dark moments into meaning and purpose, serving as a catalyst to help others.
On day 832, the podcast launched. I won’t downplay that watching my greatest vulnerability air publicly for consumption was its own rollercoaster of emotions; it absolutely was, but it was also worth it. The comments from other survivors across social media, who saw themselves in my own story, made me cry many days. The collective horror or rage from viewers, who might not have been survivors but were allies for victims, also gave me much strength and hope.
In the days leading up to the podcast launch, I encountered a news article about Callisto. As part of my daily ritual to commit to ongoing education and advocacy for sexual assault and trafficking, I read daily articles on these topics. When I found the press release for Callisto, I was immediately in awe. Although I wasn’t aware of Callisto from day one after my own assault, I completely connected with its mission and purpose. My own assault experience involved someone likely to be a serial rapist; It took me months of networking, calling journalists, and speaking with private investigators just to scratch the surface of the other victims I was fortunate enough to later discover. From that perspective, I developed a deep respect for the power of such inspiring and actionable technology.
Each survivor has their own path in deciding whether or not to engage with the criminal justice system. I decided to do so, but I want to emphasize that there is no right or wrong way to engage, act, or navigate those early days after an assault. I did all of the standard things like filing a report, undergoing a SANE kit examination, and even recovering video evidence, but for my assault, it wasn’t enough. This is not to say that some prosecutors don’t exist as absolutely profound advocates for victims who bravely fight against the toughest cases or high-profile names, because they do. However, the reality of our system is that some, unfortunately, lack that type of bravery. Some care more about win rates, while others lack the trauma-informed education necessary to work with sexual assault victims or even the fundamental understanding of what consent truly means.
I mention this not to discourage any victim or survivor from coming forward to law enforcement. However, from my perspective, prior to Callisto, there was no option B. It was either to grieve in silence or to make the conscious decision to report immediately to law enforcement, understanding that it could be a gamble either way, due to low prosecution rates or the potential for re-traumatization in our systems, as I experienced myself.
Callisto empowers survivors by restoring the power and control ripped away from them, and it puts it back in their hands. Although my assault occurred many days before I learned about this technology, I registered with my .edu email address upon discovering the platform.
As both a survivor and a tech professional, I can state that the interface is well thought out, easy to use, and I genuinely appreciate the care and concern invested in its encryption and safeguards. I entered my abuser’s information, feeling a sense of relief at the thought that I might help keep even one other person safer.
This story about vulnerability shared with internet strangers brings me to the final email I sent after the podcast launch when I discovered Callisto and signed up out of curiosity to better understand its user experience. I was so grateful that someone had invested so much empathy and technological expertise in designing a platform capable of transforming many survivors’ lives, prompting me to reach out to their CEO, Tracy DeTomasi. Similar to the first journalist I met during the darkest moments of my journey, or the vulnerable message I sent to an Epstein survivor, I thought my note might end up in spam or that they could be too busy to respond personally. However, with great respect and surprise, she replied. That email later led to a series of warm and incredibly insightful Zoom meetings with Callisto’s CEO, Tracy, and Senior Director of Marketing, Megan, which resulted in a volunteer opportunity and, ultimately, writing this blog post today.
I share this journey, starting back at day 864, for a reason. Whatever you might tell yourself in the depths of despair after a sexual assault, remember that you are not alone. Your circumstances may suggest that you are physically alone or disconnected from family, but never underestimate the power of human connection. Even if it is virtual, you can still connect to the strength of advocates and role models. Most importantly, do not underestimate your own grit, resilience, and opportunity to reshape this tragedy into something meaningful. Whether it’s a milestone like taking a shower again without fear, holding a friend dear as they share their own trauma, connecting with people who inspire your own journey, or even writing a blog or creating a podcast, just know that you are incredibly strong and capable of more than you could ever imagine.
And remember, the shame or silence you may feel right now is merely a projection of your abuser’s actions. My hope is that one day you will make that pivotal turn in your healing, much like I did, and realize that shame and silence are incredibly heavy burdens to carry- just another extension of their dysfunctional need for control- which inspires you to choose to return that shame to the abuser. Release it symbolically through your gifts or talents, or, quite literally, start to speak out.
In the meantime, please consider utilizing Callisto as a significant milestone in your own journey to reclaim your power while prioritizing your healing. Allow Callisto to enable you to make difficult decisions when you’re ready, on your own terms and timeline. Honor yourself and this journey; don’t let anyone discount your experience, gaslight, or project their own rape myths onto you. You are your own best expert, and if I somehow made it through the depths of this hell, I have faith that you will emerge on the other side in awe of who you have become.
Consider Callisto as a significant part of that healing journey, walking alongside you in support of justice, as a profound technological tool to reclaim your own power and voice.
-- With love and support, Jane