I was in my apartment last Thursday morning when I received a text message. “Thinking of you today. Sending love. Let me know if you need to talk.”
I thought, “What a sweet message to receive first thing in the morning. I have the best friends.”
He replied, “I’m seeing the headlines and immediately thought of you.”
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In that moment, the feeling in my entire body changed. My face went cold. I rushed to check my emails. Links to news articles flooded my inbox.
I am one of the six women who testified against Harvey Weinstein during his 2020 trial in New York. Last Thursday, a New York appeals court overturned Weinstein’s conviction on the basis that my testimony and the testimony of two other “Molineux witnesses” gave him an unfair trial.
When I first read the news, I was too shocked to cry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was in complete disbelief. Frozen. And then it all started to surface. A mix of emotions and thoughts burst out of me in a cry that I haven’t felt in years.
I was home alone and didn’t have to pause to explain my tears or pull myself together while someone consoled me. I was allowed to feel every bit of it. Images and memories of the losses I suffered, and sacrifices I made by coming forward flashed through my mind like a montage on repeat.
For three years leading up to the trial, I cried privately and spent countless hours with lawyers and in the Manhattan D.A.'s office preparing to testify about something that I hadn’t even come to terms with myself. Relationships were challenged because I wasn’t able to disclose everything I was going through. Friendships were lost. It was one of the most difficult times in my life and the lows lasted years after the trial ended.
When the shock of the overturned conviction wore off, I sat still. In that calm, I realized if I had to do it all over again, I would.
There was no preparation for how vulnerable and exposed testifying made me feel. The levels of anxiety and fear that I reached pulled me into moments when I didn’t think I could do it. I wanted to walk away.
Sitting on the witness stand was indescribable. Imagine the sound and feeling of being trapped in a glass bottle, while strangers look so closely at you from all angles.
The day before the sentencing hearing, I wrote that my only goal was to help other survivors hold Weinstein accountable. I didn’t step into this role for me. I did it for Jessica, and Mimi, and Annabella, and Dawn, and Lauren, and all of the women whose stories so closely resembled my own.
The trial brought six women together and gave them an unspoken bond. No matter where our journeys lead us in this life, I will be forever connected to five incredible people that I am proud to call friends.
On March 11, 2020, Weinstein was sentenced to 23 years in state prison. That same day, the World Health Organization declared COVID-19 a global pandemic. Headlines about #MeToo and #TimesUp were suddenly replaced with death tolls and CDC guidelines. The news cycle moved on as if the world forgot about our trauma.
I’ve done much self-reflection and repair since the trial ended. I’ve accepted that testifying has made me stronger. I spent 15 years ignoring my trauma and suppressing shame. Almost none of my friends and family knew about the assault. Even my husband—my greatest champion and my heart— didn’t know until headlines came out.
By coming forward, I didn’t just have to grapple with what the jury (or the world) would think of me. I didn’t just have to confront the people closest to me, who had no idea what I’d gone through. I had to face myself.
When the trial ended, I leaned into activism. I wanted to educate myself on what I went through, what many others have gone through, and the laws that should be protecting us. I thought I could be an advocate for change. This was my distraction. I was still ignoring my trauma.
After a couple of years, I realized that I was hurting more and more. The work I was doing required me to be vulnerable and all I wanted to do was protect myself. I finally came to terms that I needed to deal with my assault and the impact that testifying had on me. I needed to step away from everything I was doing.
I didn’t know where to begin. I resurrected old hobbies that brought me joy, picked up new ones that didn’t stick, changed bad habits for better ones, and even reevaluated my relationships.
I’ve fallen in love with spending time alone, with slowing down, and quieting the noise. I’ve found this to be the most empowering as it has allowed me to be more intentional in my life. This is my self-care and this is the journey that I am on and hope to be on for the rest of my days. I say this to remind anyone suffering with trauma that self-care is not optional, and it looks different for everyone. And yes, “self-care” does mean that you are a priority and that you are important.
With the conviction overturned, many survivors are justifiably angry.
Weinstein’s conviction getting overturned should remind us that we have more work to do. It shines a spotlight on the uncomfortable reality that our laws were not written with sexual abuse survivors in mind. We must keep using our voices to fight for change. We can’t let this setback set us back.
The Manhattan district attorney, Alvin Bragg, has said he will retry the case and I am grateful. Weinstein must be held accountable for the lives he’s hurt.
Justice comes at a cost; if Jessica and Mimi testify, their wounds will be torn open yet again. They’ll have to relive their trauma over and over and over.
The appeals court stated that my testimony served “no material non-propensity purpose.” I am not an expert in the laws, but I do know that my story matters. While this ruling feels like a setback, I am here, of my own accord, still healing as I write this. I will keep fighting. If the six of us disappear like the defense hopes we would, then abusive men like Weinstein win.
Whatever happens next, I’m grateful for all of the support I have received. Coming forward and supporting brave women like Jessica and Mimi introduced me to my healing more than I ever knew was possible. No court ruling will ever take that from me.