The first 3 pictures were before. The 4th picture was After. 

I was 12.

 

Think you don't know a woman who was raped?

 

Well you do. 80% of women you know, were. 

Including me. 

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Everything in my life has led me to this moment. Including America electing a rapist president. 

 

We are at a tipping point. I know that now is the time for me to tell my story. I know that humans can't live like this anymore, devoid of compassion.

 

I know the dam will crack.

 

I know that women can no longer be "good", be pretty and keep their mouths shut.

 

I know that NOW there will be a FLOOD.

 

We will not remain silent, locked in a cage of YOUR Shame. 

 

That is how I got women to post on my Facebook page when I first got the idea... SAY HIS NAME. 

 

People talk about what a cesspool Facebook and other social media platforms are. I got this idea to use it as my platform for helping women and children who have been terrorized and victimized

 

When I invited women to share the name of their perpetrator, they wouldn't do it. I started my work day.

 

When I came back that evening and checked the post, not one person had responded to my invitation to SAY HIS NAME. 

 

I thought, I need to go first. I need to break the taboo. I need to violate the unspoken agreement to protect the name of the person who raped me.

 

By that time, I had already done so much healing on my own trauma so it wasn't hard at all.

 

Everything that ever happened in my life has led me to this moment... 

 

To be of service to you.

 

To help you heal. 

 

To stand up for you. 

 

To speak out against the status quo.

 

To RAGE against sexual violence against women and children.

 

I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL SEXUAL VIOLENCE HAS ENDED!

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The Rape: 

 

Heart pounding in her throat, she ran as hard as she could up the hill of the park, trying to reach the road. It was sunset. The 16 year old boy hit her from behind with the full force of his body, knocking her down, knocking the wind out of her. Her lungs burned.

 

There was a violent fight for her clothing. Then the rape. 

 

He tried to plunge again and again into her. It was a hot fire poker stabbing into her, tearing and searing her flesh. He yelled into her face over and over again, what seemed a strange request... "Relax, relax!" 

 

The 12 year old body could not sustain the rape. Terror and pain had almost completely clamped her body shut.

 

After what seemed like an eternity he gave up, sat on her chest, pinned her arms with his knees, and raped her orally.

 

 

Shattered:

 

The girl staggered toward home, mud on her back, sticks in her hair, vagina torn and bleeding, spitting and spitting and spitting the foul taste from her mouth. Her mother could tell something had happened. She knew something was wrong but couldn't handle it. Didn't want to handle it. Didn't want to know what horrible thing befell her little girl. She didn't ask. 

 

The girl didn't tell. The girl was afraid she would get in trouble with her mother. The girl was afraid her mother would scream at her. The girl was afraid she had done something wrong.

 

 

The Secondary Trauma: 

 

The little girl knew the unspoken family rule: don't talk about emotions, don't be vulnerable, don't bring up sensitive issues, leave the past in the past, be tough, move on.

 

Being raped, incested or molested is bad, painful, devastating. The secondary trauma, where there is no support... that is somehow worse. There is a particular anguish when those who are meant to protect you, heap on pain instead.

 

 

Rape Culture:

 

She was just another girl growing up in a dangerous culture... a dangerous world in fact... where men are not honorable, and women are raped as a common course. She will be shamed, discounted, disregarded, fired, ostracized and blamed if she dares to speak of it. This is Rape Culture. This is Earth. This is a world run by men.

 

 

The Family:

 

The family was perplexed. They didn't know what happened to the girl. No one asked. All they knew was this once sweet, good little girl, turned bad and dark. She had utterly and completely changed overnight. 

 

She rarely got to see her little brothers after that. She was considered a bad influence. 

 

Her father had moved on when she was 10, to a new family after the divorce, which included her little brothers, a new wife and a new stepson. Although he lived down the road, she never saw them.

 

It was agonizing knowing that her father was only down the street but would not see her.

 

Her mother, newly liberated from her marriage, had gone back to school, work and dating. She was busy.

 

The girl was indescribably lonely and heartbroken. No one heard her pain.

 

 

To Rape is to Murder: 

 

The rape murdered the child that she was. He killed her from the inside out. She was convinced she was bad, unlovable, unwanted, worthless. She shut down emotionally and separated from her family and friends behind a thick wall of self hatred. The girl was locked in an invisible cage of his shame. She kept his secret. She was utterly alone from that moment on. She was dead inside, acting as if she was a live person.

 

Her 12 year old brain couldn't reconcile why he would do this to her. She decided it must have been because she was unworthy, bad, unlovable. There was something wrong with her. Her father didn't want her, this boy didn't want to be nice to her, her mother didn't want to hear her heart. 

 

The rapist had destroyed her self-worth all within a 20-minute interaction. He destroyed her just as surely as if he had put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. She turned inward to a deep depression and rage.

 

For 18 years, from 12 to 30, the girl sedated the pain and disappeared into a world of drugs, alcohol and a myriad of self-destructive choices. Her grades plummeted, friendships fell apart and she was ostracized from her family.

 

 

The Phoenix:

 

How do you heal from an event that darkens your soul and shatters your life? How did I rise from the ashes?

 

People think forgiveness is the "thing". Forgiveness is not the thing. The thing is... Being Forgiven. 

 

Do I mean forgiving yourself? No. I mean your perpetrator forgiving you. It may not make sense to you... me asking my perpetrator to forgive me would be what heals but, please reserve your judgment until you finish this narrative.

 

Sustaining a sexual assault puts an inexplicable bend in your river that changes you once and for all. How to break free from the all consuming ashes of despair… that's the trick.

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Well-meaning counselors and spiritual teachers advise victims of sexual assault to forgive their abuser. Not only is this putting the cart before the horse… it is damaging, premature and incomplete advice.

 

If done properly, your healing will include forgiveness of your perpetrator as a natural, uncomplicated organic occurrence, of doing the real work in recovering your True Self.

 

 

Dismemberment:

 

You were dismembered by your trauma. Parts of you were trapped in the past montages of terror and abuse. To recover your True Self, you must re-member yourself... reassemble yourself. 

 

 

Jane's Healing Childhood Trauma Tool:

 

18 years after I was raped, at age 30, I hit rock bottom and started looking for a way out. Every therapist I went to and every book I read, would have me heal my old trauma by going back to that memory. This was wrong. It is counterproductive for trauma survivors to go back to the memory as a memory. Eventually I became suicidal.

 

 

Re-Membering Yourself:

 

Looking for a way to heal, I developed a brief therapy technique for healing childhood trauma that would not re-traumatize the client. I taught myself to go back to that memory as a victorious, empowered, Warrior Goddess. I began saving myself and beating my rapist with a baseball bat.

 

Rage began to turn into healthy boundaries set with anger, which gave way to a sense of empowerment, which turned into sympathy, then empathy, then compassion. My life started shifting and I started realizing my gifts, my strength and my heart.

 

I began to reassemble myself. I started remembering myself, my worth and value. I remembered my heart and my joy and love! 

 

By age 32 I had become a counselor… a great counselor. My tool worked perfectly and has helped heal thousands of people who had been plagued by years of pain.

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If you want to explore this technique more in depth, I showcase my Healing Childhood Trauma recording here: 

 

 

Forgive Me:

 

Why would I ask my rapist to forgive me? There is a spiritual teaching that the beggar is making a greater sacrifice than the giver. 

 

The giver will be exalted in the afterlife but the begger will only benefit in this life.

 

The rapist took something from me. He took sex. He took my innocence, trust, self-esteem, my sense of safety, friends, family, school life. My feeling of connection to life around me. He took his satisfaction in selfish greed in that moment.

 

Our interaction benefited him and cost me. But in the long run, I benefited in a far greater way than he.

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First, there are steps that need to be fulfilled: 

 

1. I would need to confront him, ask for an apology and hold him accountable.

2.  It is important to know that it doesn't matter what he says or whether he admits to it or not.

3. I would tell him I forgive him and in my heart, he is absolved.

4.  I would tell him I have become a great healer because of our experience together and that I have helped thousands upon thousands of people.

5. I would ask him to forgive me for needing that experience to become the person I was meant to be, who would help so many.

 

Then yes, I would indeed ask him to forgive me.

 

 

The Counselor:

 

Because of our experience together, not in spite of it but because of the experience, I became one of the greatest counselors in Phoenix. 

 

I have the ability to work with clients on practically any issue including physical, mental, emotional and sexual assault.

 

He sacrificed his life for me to become great. He will always only ever be the man who raped a little girl but I…

 

I am the dazzling powerful Phoenix who rose from the ashes and became a great teacher, friend, giver and healer.

 

 

Soul Contract:

 

What if our souls made a contract in the heavens? 

 

What if they said to each other, "I've got an idea… what if we meet down on Earth and you sacrifice your life for me by becoming a rapist? After you rape me, I will go on a dark journey and lose everything and everyone in my life. On my way back from this dark journey, I will learn to be a great teacher with a particular kind of compassion which cannot be attained any other way. I know this is a lot to ask because, you will be the one who raped a little girl. You and I will forget that we made this contract in the heavens and so, there will be pain."

 

"Would you make that sacrifice for me Dear Soul? Would you make that sacrifice for me to become great?" 

 

And in your generosity you said, "Yes, I will do that for you."

 

I am grateful for the experience because it has made me who I am today. 

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Hello Rapist:

 

I looked for him off and on for many years and could not find him. I even enlisted the help of the St. Louis Police. But to no avail, he seemed to have vanished.

 

48 years after being raped, in September 2020, as I was about to turn 61 (3 months prior to writing this memoir now), somebody randomly found the rapist during the pandemic. I had been spelling his name wrong.

 

I messaged him, reminding him of what he had done. I called the St. Louis Police because I heard the laws had been changed and there were no statute of limitations for child sexual assault. I could face him in court. There could be validation.

 

I could confront him. I could tell him I forgive him. I could ask him to forgive me for needing that experience  to become a great therapist.

 

 

Shut Your Mouth:

 

I told my mother I might be back in St. Louis for a court case to prosecute the rapist who attacked me 48 years ago. She warned me to keep my mouth shut about it and not to reach out to my family for support. She reinforced our family rule to not talk about past things. 

 

Did that hurt? Yes. For a moment in time I was thrust back to my 12 year old self who had no mother or father to go to for support. She gave an additional warning to not reach out to my siblings for help or connection. The searing loneliness engulfed me once more.

 

For that moment in time it was devastating. To once more have the event that destroyed who I was as a child be so utterly and completely discounted, ignored and invalidated yet again... made my heart wrench. My mother either cannot or will not offer compassion. I'm not sure which.

 

No matter. Everything she and my father (now deceased), could not or would not give, I have learned to give and receive through my friends. My friendships are my most treasured relationships. They are deep and abiding. We are joyful, loving, truthful and trusting with one another. I would give my life for any one of them.

 

 

Statute of Limitations:

 

The cop said, "I'm sorry, you were raped before 2005 when the statute of limitations in Missouri, for child sexual assault was abolished. You cannot prosecute your rapist." 

 

Just two tears fell from my eyes. Only two… one from each eye. It only took two tears and then it was done. It would have been profoundly validating to face him in court and be heard. It would have been validating but, not needed nor necessary for me to feel complete with the rapist.

 

Statutes of limitations are ridiculous and arbitrary time limits for trauma victims to recover enough to be able to speak up and make a report. It sometimes takes decades for a sex abuse victim to muster the courage to go through the meat grinder that is our legal system.

 

Now that I have the strength and energy, my purpose is to change the laws in not only every state in the USA but every country in the world and abolish statute of limitations for child and adult sexual assault. I want those laws to be retroactive so that anyone may report any sexual assault anytime before they are dead.

 

I recently spoke to a lawyer about my intention regarding the SOL. He said the courts would never fulfill my request. He said the court systems would get completely clogged up by sexual assault cases.

 

?!!!!!!!! Oh dear.

 

 

You Call Yourself a Man?

 

This is a message to the men of the world... If you are not teaching all of your brothers and sons to treat women with care, consciousness and respect… if you do not recognize the act of sex as a sacred and a mutually joyous ritual meant for the upliftment of both people... you are not only a part of the problem, you are training those around you to be rapists. Please WAKE UP and do your part!

 

We must become a world that is safe for women and children.

 

 

The Rapist Died:

 

After I wrote him reminding him of what he did to me, the rapist denied it. One month (Oct 2020) later he got coronavirus and died. I was grateful to have confronted him and to have expressed to a few of his family members and friends what he had done. Some were shaming and discounting toward me and some were validating.

 

 

I Am Content:

 

I do not feel sad or mad that I was not able to see my rapist in court. My brief therapy technique for childhood trauma has helped heal thousands of people, without re-traumatizing them. I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments. I am content that he and I are complete with one another.

 

This remarkable tool that I developed has a record for healing multiple types of emotional disorders including, curing bipolar disorder. 

 

Often times people are diagnosed with disorders such as bipolar, when all that is wrong is their childhood trauma which was never healed. Once healed, the bi-polar symptoms disappear.

 

I'm content and proud and grateful to have been able to do so much good in this world. Almost all that I have done is a direct result of this traumatic experience.

 

 

My Wish:

 

My one regret after 27 years as a counselor is that I have not found a way to change our system to make it feel safer and easier for a sexual assault victim to report. 

 

Even now in the 21st century after all these years of women fighting for liberation and equality, 406,970 rapes were reported in 2019 for women alone. That is not counting children and men. You can be assured that that is only a fraction of the number of women who we're raped. The majority of sexual assault victims, will never report the crime. 

 

 

The National Sexual Violence Resource:

 

One in five women will be raped. 

One in four girls and one in six boys will be sexually abused before they turn 18 years old. 

 

This MUST END.

 

 

The Secret: 

 

Keeping the Secret of a sexual assault can grow within you. It is a dark seed planted with ill intentions. Keep the secret, and it's vines will wrap around and choke you. They will infiltrate every area of your life and cast a dark pall filling your psyche with thorns. 

 

The #me-too movement was a great start to help people find the courage to speak up. What's really needed though, is for it to become wholly unacceptable to blame the victim, doubt her word and make it hard or frightening for her to report. Reporting must be commonplace and not the exception.

 

 

Say His Name:

 

A woman will maybe, just maybe post #metoo online or whisper to her friend that she was raped but she will be frightened to tell anyone else. Why? 

 

She feels like it's her fault. No, she shouldn't have worn that, shouldn't have flirted, she was asking for it, her family will ostracize her, she will get fired, the police won't believe her, the lawyer for the judge will discount her testimony. 

 

If you try to prosecute, some people will try to say all of those things to you. So I say, fine. If we will never find justice through the support of our society or our legal system, screw it... let's just say his name. 

 

When we keep his secret, he retains power over us. You are only as sick as your secrets. Gather your courage. Say his name! 

 

Just say it out loud, write it, publish it. I don't care if no one believes me. I don't care if people blame me. I'm not keeping his secret anymore. It's not my job to carry his darkness. Fuck it.

 

 

His name is Scott Kimble. 

My name is... Victorious!

 

#Sayhisname. 

 

 

Hope:

 

It continues to be my fervent wish that the epidemic of men perpetuating the domestic terrorism act of sexual assault in our world, on this earth are caught, put in prison and receive weekly individual and group counseling for the length of their sentence.

 

My Hope is that rape will one day be a distant memory that the world looks back on and thinks of with the same incredulous disdain with which we look on Nazi Germany or the extermination of the Native Americans.

 

My hope is that not one more person on this planet will be destroyed by the Soul Murder called rape.

 

 

Victorious:

 

I am the inscrutable, indomitable, mysterious and wise Warrior Goddess who shines her Light on the world of women, men and children, lifting them higher than they ever thought possible. I am filled with gratitude and joy that the deepest darkness will never end me. I am the dazzling, indestructible, diamond Phoenix who overcomes all!

 

A message from the girl who got raped and became great.

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- Love, Jane

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