08/17/2026
When I was 9, my friend’s father sexually assaulted me.
Last fall I finally reported it. Officially. The officer who took my statement was patient and kind. He said he believed me. And I believed him. For the first time in a very long time, I felt relief.
And then after months of advocating for myself with the prosecutor’s office, I learned that they weren’t going to charge him. Because he assaulted me with his fingers, not an object. They told me if he had used a gun or a broom it would have been a different outcome. But according to the law, a hand or a finger isn’t an “instrument.”
One word. One simple word created protection for my abuser, and took away any hope of justice for me.
Knowing exactly why the system failed me doesn’t make it hurt less.
I’ve spent my career in legal advocacy, and I’ve watched this pattern up close, over and over, in cases that weren’t mine. Systems built around technicalities and loopholes, rather than right and wrong, end up punishing the wrong people. Not just by letting the guilty walk. By making survivors relive the worst thing that ever happened to them, only to be told it doesn’t count because of how a law was worded, or when it was worded, or what body part was involved.
Do they think of these things when they make these laws? Does it matter what was used or what was touched? Or when? Shouldn’t it just be wrong to violate someone in this way, at any age?
What is wrong with our system that we are honestly having conversations about what is “okay” enough contact to prevent someone from being charged?
I will never get accountability from him. The system already decided that. And the law may protect his actions, but it does not dictate my silence. And neither does he.
If you’re holding something a system never resolved for you, I built The Unmuted Room so you’d have somewhere to say it, without being flinched at, judged, or redirected. You don’t need a conviction or a case number for your story to be true. You just need someone willing to hear it.
If that’s what you need, I’m here.