I was a freshman in Bible college back in 1984. A few months into college life, I met a young man who I will call “K” who was a friend, but nothing more. K appeared to be so Godly. I enjoyed being around him a lot. He was an upperclassman, well respected and seemed to be going places in ministry. He was known for his ability to preach. I was honored that he let me hang around with him, especially since I was a new student, and he had a lot of friends already.

Sharon, the RA of our dorm, was a great gal who really cared about us girls in the freshman dorm. One day I mentioned to her how much I enjoyed hanging out with K, and she warned me it wasn’t a good idea to hang around him. I wondered why in the world this was the case…he seemed so close to the Lord and anointed for ministry. Sharon didn’t elaborate she just said, “Trust me, this is not a good idea.” Sadly I did not listen to her because what she was saying sounded crazy by all appearances I would always regret the decision to disregard her counsel.

A few weeks after my conversation with Sharon, some of us girls wanted to go to breakfast on Saturday morning at a local place and K said, “I’ll pay for all of you if you just take me along with you.” This was a deal we didn’t want to refuse, being the poor college students that we were. We said, “Sure, we’d love that!”

Four of us including K went in my roommate Michelle’s car which I drove because I didn’t have a car and I borrowed hers from time to time. When we came back, I parked alongside my dorm right next to what is known as the college commons, which is a big open space with some trees. The two others got out of the car, but K asked if he and I could sit and talk for a while, and I said yes. I was sitting in the driver’s seat, with K in the passenger seat. Where I parked, people were always walking by, going to and from the dorms and it was an open area. K and I were sitting apart from one another on our respective sides talking when he reached across and grabbed my shoulder with one hand and began pulling at my shirt with the other, trying to get under it, and said, “I know you want me.” Stunned, I told him to stop. He responded angrily and started tearing at my clothes. I quickly drew my knees up and kicked, which infuriated him. He tried to bring me under control. I had made a mistake by shifting my position to kick him because this enabled him to get on top of me. I only had one leg free at this point as he had most of the rest of me pinned down, and I kept kicking with my one free leg as hard as I could.

I was wearing pants that were capri style and the skin of my ankles and a little bit of my lower leg were exposed. Michelle’s car had a cassette tape player that her father had installed on a mount through the bottom of the glove box using screws, the points of which were sticking through. Every time I kicked, my left leg scraped hard against these screws and cut me. I started bleeding from all the times I kicked and my foot, ankle and the area right above it scraped against the screws, although I would not notice any of this until the ordeal was over, I was so focused on surviving without getting raped.

I could not believe someone didn’t notice us. We were right next to the commons, and people were usually walking by. It was also early afternoon by this time and broad daylight, which is another reason I previously thought absolutely nothing of being in the car, alone with K. I felt totally safe prior to this and couldn’t even believe this was happening in such a public area. I kept thinking, “Where is everyone? Any minute, someone is going to see or hear this and stop it!” Unbelievably no one walked by during this time! K was so focused on trying to undress me at the same time he was trying to subdue me that fortunately I was able to reach above me with one hand and open the driver’s side door and fling it open. I did this to have a better chance that someone would hear me screaming or see the open car door. As we struggled at one point, my head was literally hanging out the driver’s side door. Finally, K must have realized that he decided to prey on a girl who was not giving in or giving up without one of us dying. He was probably worried someone was finally going to walk by. He looked at me with a thoroughly disgusted face and said, “You’re not enough for me!” He let me go, got out of the car, slammed the door and walked away.

I was shaking when I got out of the car and started walking toward my dorm. The first place I went was Sharon’s room. When she saw me in the doorway, she could tell something was terribly wrong before I even said a word. Blood was running down my ankle and she moved quickly to grab some kleenex off of a desk and retrieved a first aid kit as I told her what happened, all the while profusely apologizing for not listening to her advice to stop hanging out with K. I believed everything that happened was my fault for having not listened. I later realized that absolutely none of it was my fault, but at that time I felt guilty simply for being in the car. I later learned the truth — that nobody is assaulted because they chose to be in a car with someone, or because they went on a date, or because they wore certain articles of clothing. They were assaulted because someone chose to be violent.

Sharon responded compassionately and I was so grateful she was my leader. I later learned that I wasn’t the first girl this had happened to, in fact K had assaulted another girl, “M”, but she refused to come forward out of fear. Because of who K was and how people respected him, M felt she would never be believed. I did not know M prior to this. She was an upperclassman I had not met yet, but I went and knocked on her dorm room door and introduced myself. I told her what happened to me and said, “I heard something happened to you that has also happened to me. Will you come with me and speak up?” She said no, she was too fearful. She said she would never be believed because of who K appeared to be to everyone. I was disheartened that she said no but I understood why.

The next day was difficult. K happened to be the student speaker in Chapel. He preached a message called, “Kicking God with Clean Feet.” I don’t remember what the scriptures were or what the points were. When he went to the pulpit and started talking it was as if the room was swirling around me. I was angry but somehow, I stayed in my chair, staring ahead as he went on. I felt like his message was a passive aggressive jab at me and that is all I could think about the entire service. When the assault occurred, I confided in my best friend Joanne about what had happened and after chapel she quipped, “Actually it was you who ended up kicking him with clean feet!”

Although this was the 1980’s before people started believing women, I was believed right away. And, K was gone seemingly overnight. Although this was a horrible experience, I moved forward pretty quickly — almost without missing a beat, and I attribute that to the fact that I was believed. There is incredible healing power in Jesus, yes…but there is also power in being believed, and supported.

It saddens me at times when I hear leaders speak disparagingly about women’s movements (or any movement) that seek to hold abusers/perpetrators accountable, bring justice for victims, connect survivors with resources for healing, and empower individuals who have had such experiences. If you do not support accountability, justice, healing, and empowerment it’s time to examine your walk with Jesus and whether you are in ministry to help or harm people. Unfortunately, there are leaders who harm as many people as they help.

I studied for hundreds and possibly thousands of hours about trauma for my dissertation. (I have faced varying kinds of trauma in my life, so this was a passion for me.) Most women I know have #MeToo stories, and unfortunately so many have more than one. What happened to me resulted in a positive outcome, even though all of the protocols or systems that are in place now weren’t the case back then, and the words “trauma informed” weren’t even a thing. I was really lucky to have people around me who responded well. So many women’s stories don’t end this way. I thank God for Sharon and for others who responded to me with compassion. When the people around you don’t respond the right way, the trauma is compounded.

I am no longer a young girl starting out in life and leadership. I am now a wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, friend, minister and leader. It is now incumbent upon me to be a safe place for those who come to me with their story and their pain. What will I do with the authority and influence I have been given? Will I respond to people in a trauma-informed way, or will I dismiss them? Will I champion people and movements that exist to give women a safe place to share what has happened to them, empower them, and bring accountability, justice and healing or will I be silent or advise those who have been harmed to just be quiet and forgive “for the sake of the Kingdom,” committing yet another travesty? Unfortunately, retraumatization is a common occurrence and is excruciating for victims to bear. It wounds them all over again and may even hurt worse than the initial wound! I am committed to never retraumatize and to always leave people better off than I found them, just like my leader and the people who surrounded me did.