
With the daily news of Jeffrey Epstein’s victimization of young women revealing new layers to his crimes, it is helpful to consider the components of sexual assault and the tools that survivors can use in the wake of assault. Sexual predator behavior, in all its forms, often depends on three factors.
Power Imbalance
The dynamic around sexual assault that emerged during the long-needed “Me Too” movement was that of power imbalance. The predator’s power can stem from a superior position within a company or from fame, fortune, or both.
For example, Harvey Weinstein targeted aspiring actresses who felt their career path depended on him. Matt Lauer’s renown and private office served as a trap for the women he preyed upon. Bill Cosby used his fame and drugs to sexually assault women. 
In all these cases, the abusers’ status and power suppressed their victims’ voices until one person had the courage to speak out, sending shockwaves across the country.
Victim Shame
Victims often carry shame, but I am unaware of any perpetrators who felt shame for their actions. Because of this, predatory behavior frequently continues for years. 
For example, Richard Strauss, a team doctor at Ohio State, preyed on young male athletes for two decades while his behavior was an open secret among athletes and coaches, including current congressman Jim Jordan. It took 20 years for an accusation to be officially filed with the university before the truth began to unravel.
Why did it take so long? Shame.
The shame was fundamentally different for female and male victims. The women were ashamed of what had been stolen from them. They blamed themselves for allowing it to happen, and this shame convinced them they were so broken that they would be unworthy of love and connection.
For young men, the shame was different yet, in some ways, the same. I first encountered this “young male shame” when I learned about a band director who preyed on teens from single-parent families. He was responsible for two victims committing suicide. 
Why? They were violated by another man. It carried so much shame that the band director was certain no teenager would stand before the trustees and tell their story. 
Same-sex predatory behavior was such an eviscerating experience that the victims felt they had no one to confide in, especially not their parents or other adults. It raised questions about their masculinity and “maleness” during a vulnerable time. One victim asked before he died by suicide, “What is wrong with me?”
A Culture of Judgment
Finally, there is a culture of judgment that dismisses, denies, and then blames the victim. You know the saying, “If you hadn’t been standing where he was shooting, then you wouldn’t have gotten shot!” This same logic is used to blame victims of sexual assault.
The Path to Healing
Healing from such sexual trauma is challenging, but possible. There is a reason why it has taken all these years for over 100 victims of Epstein to come forward. 
A person who has been molested or victimized—whether sexually, physically, or violently—often lives in an intractable, unmovable space that traps them from moving forward with hope. They become stuck in guilt and shame.
Again, for male-on-male sexual violence or rape, this trauma may show itself differently. 
In the prison mental health department I managed, we had an offender in solitary confinement. I didn’t know why he was incarcerated, as those records were separate from our treatment records. He came to my attention because he was placed in psychological observation for hurting himself. 
While it wasn’t unusual for our offenders to cut themselves, this young man, small of stature, was self-harming by sticking things up his urethra. In a prison housing 3,000 men, he was the only one self-harming in that way. Everyone in the Infirmary was puzzled because men usually protect their genitals, not hurt them.
After several trips to our psychological observation cell, I researched his incarceration history. He had been gang-raped shortly after he entered the prison system. 
His self-harming was rooted in shame and revulsion directed not toward those who raped him but toward himself. He was not alone in his shame over what was stolen from him and the questions it left him with about his sexual identity.
Moving From Victim to Survivor
Moving forward with hope and healing requires the willingness to move beyond the role of a victim. This is important because that role, at any point in life, is one of powerlessness, which is distinguishable from weakness. 
When we move out of the role of victim, we see how the Epstein survivors mirror what power looks like. They are stepping out together, emerging from the shadows, and finding their voices. In doing that, they have set themselves on a path toward healing.
It is essential to reorient our focus from the feeling of being “too broken to mend” to a more hopeful reality: “This violation hurt me and stole from me, but it did not leave me unworthy of love or connection.” It is a truth that is new and may take a while to absorb.
In our yard, situated in the heart of Central Texas farming land, the soil is rich in deep clay. When it gets dry, the soil cracks and is impossible to penetrate with a shovel. However, when the rain comes, the cracks disappear, and the soil becomes pliable. 
When we move from broken to mending, a new perspective—giving ourselves a new “tape” to hear and integrating that into who we are becoming—moves us forward with more confidence and power. “Victim-hood,” while very real, is a slum we don’t want to and need not stay in.
The Gift of Self-Forgiveness
Forgiving ourselves is also necessary. Without it, we are enslaved. Guilt is a bottomless quicksand that keeps us frozen, without hope or feeling that there is a way out. 
Paul Tournier, in his book Guilt and Grace, distinguished between “true guilt” and “false guilt.” 
While I don’t minimize the power of guilt, for sexual abuse survivors, their guilt may be more unearned than earned. The accountability they hold themselves to is a “hindsight standard.”
“If I had known then what I know now…” is debilitating. Wisdom comes from “learning now about what I did then.”
At some point, the Epstein survivors have made three brave steps: speaking out, joining other survivors, and calling for justice for all those who were abused, molested, and trafficked. 
Forgiving ourselves is a gift we give ourselves.
Forgiving the Predator
However, there is one more step which might be the hardest of all: forgiving the predators who hurt you means clearing out their presence from your life. Bishop Desmond Tutu spoke of forgiving his oppressors after spending more than 20 years in prison. He said that if he did not forgive them, he would still be in prison.
I love the New Testament picture of forgiveness toward those who have hurt us. Imagine tightly holding in your hand the injustice that hurt you. 
If you want to move on, you must do three things: first, you must let go of the sin (that which was done to you); second, you must let go of the sinner (the one who violated you); and third, you must do it with grace as God has forgiven you. 
It is not easy, but it is liberating.
Living in hope is knowing that the hurts and violations in this world will be faced, confronted, and judged by the Eternal God at the end of one’s life or the end of time. Because God literally has justice for us covered, we can move on.
Having been a pastor, I am familiar with the pressure to “let go and let God,” which often becomes a way of dismissing the hurt, pain and violation associated with sexual violence. Nothing in the Scripture negates violence that one experienced either as a child, a teen or an adult. Rather, one’s walk with Christ will require certain things of us across a lifetime. God is patient, understanding and full of healing grace.
All of that is to say, at the right time in our walk with Christ, the maturity, the blessings, and the grace will be in place to take that step of forgiveness. I personally express it in prayer this way, “Father, I want to forgive as you have forgiven me. Help me get to that place and that readiness.”


		
		
		