An Adjudicated Rapist in the White House

As a trauma-informed psychotherapist, for decades I’ve had the privilege of working with countless sexual assault survivors while consulting at a rape crisis center and more recently in my private practice. During Trump’s defamation and sexual assault trial (E. Jean Carroll v. Donald J. Trump), I was contacted by former and current patient-survivors who were understandably shaken by how Carroll was treated. She was disbelieved, her motives were questioned, and she was mocked or ignored.* This is precisely why many survivors never come forward. Such ill-treatment precisely when someone needs support the most compounds the trauma.

In the days since the election, I’ve had a similar spate of texts/calls/sessions with women who are devastated, disoriented, and scared. (All genders can be sexual assault victims. I just happen to have been in touch with women.)

“It’s mindboggling to me that the fact that [Trump] is an adjudicated rapist, all by itself isn’t enough to make voting for him out of the question,” one woman sobbed, as she buried her face in her hands.

“Why in the hell does the media treat a rapist like a “normal” candidate?” asked another.

Still another texted, “I thought this was the #MeToo era. How can this be?”

Deep-rooted sexism is how. Ask E. Jean Carroll. Ask Christine Blasey Ford. Ask Kamala Harris. Ask millions of women. If you’re someone who voted for Trump, regardless of your reason, there’s no escaping the fact that you participated in that sexism. And before you say it: yes, the 53% of white women who voted for Trump are accountable, as well. Sexism isn’t bound by gender. It can be internalized and championed by anyone. (Same with racism, ableism, ageism, homophobia, etc.) It’s not all that uncommon. To be clear, my goal isn’t to shame. But rather, I hope to invite an honest reckoning, just as I do with my patients as I support them on their journeys, and just as I do with myself. And in that reckoning, perhaps, there can come some awareness and a future dialogue.

Make no mistake, this is going to have a chilling effect on survivors to come forward to report sexual assault.

If you don’t see yourself as someone who could be sexist, remember that sexism isn’t always the “grab ‘em by the pussy” variety. Those who voted for Trump told their daughters and sisters and mothers and women friends tacitly, but unmistakably, that they don’t care enough that the president of the United States is an adjudicated rapist not to vote for him. What reason could make it okay to vote for an adjudicated rapist? It seems that would be a deal breaker for folks who respect and want to protect women. Perhaps it never occurred to some that many women will no longer feel psychologically and physically safe knowing a man with so much power over them has paternalistically and threateningly said he’d “protect [us], whether [we] like it or not.” If a patient reported a partner/spouse had a pattern of saying things like that to her, we’d be discussing safety plans and where she was going to stash her “go bag” in case she needed to quickly flee.

Not only are women and girls getting the message, but so are the men and boys. A Trump vote signaled to men and boys that sexual assault isn’t that big of a deal. In just a few short days since Trump was elected, we’ve already seen how emboldened and entitled men and boys have become. The sickening Nick Fuentes post, “Your body, my choice” has gone viral. Men and boys of all ages are repeating it, some as young as grammar school. Those words are the promise of a predator. The philosophy of a rapist.

A vote for Trump has also given the message to sexual assault survivors, specifically, and women who go through life hoping like hell not to become a sexual assault survivor, that being held legally accountable for rape/sexual assault doesn’t really mean all that much, particularly if you’re a rich, white guy. Despite a jury’s findings of liability, you can be unrepentant and take zero responsibility for your actions, mock your victim on an international platform, and then be voted in by millions of people to hold the most powerful position on Earth.

“All hail, the Rapist-in-Chief,” one of my patients said, saluting and trying to joke through her tears.

Make no mistake, this is going to have a chilling effect on survivors to come forward to report sexual assault. It’s going to discourage them from getting the care and support they need. And just as with the undoing of Roe v. Wade, which robs women of bodily autonomy and the right to fully decide their own futures, it demeans and demoralizes all women.

If you’re a sexual assault survivor and a person of color, and/or also in the LGBTQ+ community, or disabled, low income, or unhoused, I don’t have to tell you about the added challenges those intersections bring. And sexual assault survivor or not, all of these communities, and more, will surely be deeply threatened under a second Trump term. As a psychotherapist, I’ve had the privilege of holding space for innumerable women who’ve told stories of violence and deep pain. I know what horrors we can inflict on each other and I’m not naïve about the uncertainty ahead. But I’ve also heard myriad stories of breathtaking resilience and kick-ass strength and triumph. If during these fraught times each of us commits, however we’re able, to meaningfully stand not only with survivors, but all women and girls, as well as marginalized communities, those are the empowering stories we’ll be sharing one day because it will have been the truth we lived.

*During the trial, I wrote about some of the misperceptions people have about how one “should” respond after being sexual assaulted here.

If you’re a survivor and need support and/or resources, call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE (4673); or go to www.rainn.org.