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Pathways to recovery – Part 4

Responding to sexual violence: Pathways to recovery

Commissioned by The Ministry of Women’s Affairs

Authors: Venezia Kingi and Jan Jordan with Tess Moeke-Maxwell and Peggy Fairbairn-Dunlop

For a PDF [2.6MB] click HERE

Return to Responding to sexual violence research reports

This document is made up of five parts.

PART 1
1.0 to 2.9
Introduction

PART 2
3.0 to 3.8
Case studies

PART 3
4.0 to 6.6
Research findings
PART 4
7.0 to 9.4
Research findings

PART 5
10.0 to 11.6
Research findings

 

Contents

7    Going to court
7.1    Introduction
7.2    Court processes
7.3    Trial
7.4    Sentencing
7.5    Support and assistance
7.6    In retrospect
7.7    Summary

8    Support systems
8.1    Introduction
8.2    Formal systems
8.3    Informal sources of support
8.4    Self-help strategies
8.5    Issues of culture and ethnicity
8.6    Summary

9    Surviving sexual violence
9.1    Introduction
9.2    Impact of the sexual assault
9.3    Healing and recovery
9.4    Summary

List of tables

Table 28: Who explained court procedures (n=17)
Table 29: Meeting Crown prosecutor (n=13)
Table 30: Prosecutor’s treatment of victim/survivor (n=14)
Table 31: Preparation for giving evidence (n=8)
Table 32: Outcome of case (n=17)
Table 33: Support at court (n=12)
Table 34: Unhelpful/least supportive part of process (n=12)
Table 35: Most important information for complainants (n=16)
Table 36: Service or agency contacted (n=61)
Table 37: How the service or agency was contacted (n=47)
Table 38: What would make using support services/agencies easier (n=24)
Table 39: Levels of satisfaction by type of service/agency (n=61)
Table 40: Support from service/agency helpful (n=48)
Table 41: Helpful responses from formal agencies (n=43)
Table 42: Service/agency response unhelpful (n=48)
Table 43: Unhelpful responses from formal agencies (n=17)
Table 44: Impact of sexual assault (interview sample; n=56)
Table 45: Importance of support/events for healing and recovery (n=75)

 

 


7    Going to court

7.1    Introduction

Few complaints of sexual violence result in formal charges being laid and even fewer proceed to trial. For those that go to trial the probability of a guilty verdict is also statistically unlikely. As discussed in chapter 4, not all victim/survivors participating in this research who reported their sexual assault to the police went on to be involved in the court process. This chapter discusses the experiences of the minority who did.

7.2    Court processes

Seventeen research participants were involved in court processes (14 interviewees and 3 survey respondents). Eleven of the 14 interviewees (79 percent) said they had been told what charges had been laid before the process began.

7.2.1    Explaining procedures
All of the 17 who were involved in court processes said someone had explained court procedures to them. Victim/survivors were most often informed of court protocols and procedures by police and/or court victim advisers (Table 28).

Table 28: Who explained court procedures (n=17)

Outcome

n

%

Police

7

41

Court victim adviser

4

24

Specialist sexual violence agency

1

6

Prosecutor

1

6

Other1

4

24

Note
1    ‘Other’ was made up of four respondents who said this information came from multiple sources: the police and court victim adviser; generic victim support service and police; and police, specialist sexual violence agency and court victim adviser (n=2).

 

One respondent said, ‘everyone gave me a bit of advice’. What usually happened was the complainant was taken through the courtroom, told who would be in the room and where they would be sitting, and given an idea about what they should and should not say. They were also told how the case would proceed through depositions to trial and sometimes provided with advice on how to deal with the defence attorney. One respondent who had been briefed by the Crown prosecutor said she had been confused by the negotiations carried out around a reduced sentence for the perpetrator if he entered a guilty plea.

We went through my statement and he told me what questions they might ask. What actually happened at trial was different to what I was told would happen. I didn’t understand the negotiation process where he got less time for pleading guilty. The [prosecutor] had told me he would get eight years but because he pled guilty, he only got three years …

Those who were interviewed were asked if they understood all the procedures after having these explained to them – 8 out of 14 said ‘yes’. Three responded ‘partly’.

Yeah most of them; I got a bit confused with just like some of the questions, the way that they worded the questions, it was like they were trying to trick me with answers. [The defence lawyer] was horrible.

For two respondents their confusion was more in relation to the outcome of the trial (e.g. plea bargaining) rather than the procedures themselves. A common feeling was that the whole experience was overwhelming.

‘I just couldn’t take it all in.

More often than not, research participants said that they felt well prepared for going to court – 11 out of 17 reported this, although they often commented that they were as prepared ‘as [they] could be’.

We went through my statement and [the detective] gave me practice questions to answer. I also did this with my counsellor. Also in the week before court I wrote out a list of what could be asked, and wrote my answers. It was a way of me keeping in control and it was very important for me not to fall apart in front of [the perpetrator].

Despite saying she felt well prepared at the time, one respondent was now angry about her experience.

At the time I would have said yes but now, no. I feel like I was treated just like a number, yeah like a number, I don’t know. It wasn’t like the most enjoyable day of my life and I don’t feel like I was treated well, I was just another number. And even the defence lawyer, which is I suppose understandable, but I feel like I was treated like just a piece of shit basically.

The six who said they did not feel well prepared referred to the nature of the event and not enough time for preparation.

I was very, very anxious about it. I felt like physically prepared but mentally
I was very worried about it. I was scared you know because I knew it was all going to be in the papers again.
Well, it was all rushed because I was told it was going to be in a month’s time and then all of a sudden it was in three days’ time because it got brought forward because one trial was cancelled.

I think that’s quite an irrelevant question to be honest. I don’t think you ever feel well prepared to go to court.

7.3    Trial

This section describes the experiences of those who went to court, including meeting the Crown prosecutor, giving evidence and being cross-examined, and facing the accused in court. It also looks at what was helpful or unhelpful about the court process.

7.3.1    Meeting the Crown prosecutor
The cases of 14 interviewees proceeded through to the accused having to appear in court (i.e. depositions and trial). These interviewees were asked when they first met, and how they were treated by, the Crown prosecutor.

Most met the prosecutor briefly on the day of the trial or the day before. Only two mentioned they had had contact with the prosecutor more than once before the day the trial began.

Table 29: Meeting Crown prosecutor (n=13)

When met

n1

%

Day of the trial

5

38

2–4 weeks before the trial

4

31

Day before trial

2

15

Other2

2

15

Notes
1    One respondent could not remember when she had first met the Crown prosecutor.
2    One respondent met the Crown prosecutor on the day the perpetrator was offered a ‘deal’ for pleading guilty and one met the prosecutor four days (including a weekend) before the trial.

Back to top

Although they had usually only met ‘their’ Crown prosecutor shortly before or on the day of the trial, most respondents were pleased with the way they were treated. Prosecutors were described as being understanding, professional, pleasant, warm and respectful (Table 30).

Table 30: Prosecutor’s treatment of victim/survivor (n=14)

Treatment

n1

%

Understanding

4

29

Professional

4

29

Pleasant

4

29

Just another ‘case’

3

21

Warm

2

14

Respectful

2

14

Cold

2

14

Other1

1

7

Notes
1    Numbers do not total 14 because multiple responses could be given.
2    One respondent said she ‘didn’t really know him’.

 

A small number were dissatisfied with how they had been treated. One of the criticisms of prosecutors made by three interviewees was the clinical way in which they were treated.

I just felt like he treated me like oh not even really a person. Just somebody that had like a case kind of thing. Like a job. Mm. And I found him to be quite negative as well because he did say again don’t expect a conviction because [area] has low conviction rates … There was no positive encouragement.

Like I was just another client or whatever … just another number.

7.3.2    Giving evidence
Eight of the 14 interviewees whose case went to depositions or trial said they had been given preparation for giving evidence in court. This task was mainly undertaken by the police detective involved with the case and rarely by the Crown prosecutor or court victim adviser.

Table 31: Preparation for giving evidence (n=8)

Professional

n

%

Police

7

88

Prosecutor

2

25

Counsellor

2

25

Specialist sexual violence agency

1

13

Court victim adviser

1

13

Note
1    Numbers do not total eight because multiple responses could be given.

 

Eleven interviewees gave evidence in court – only one did this behind a screen. Two said they had been given a choice about the mode of giving evidence – both had been offered a screen but in one case the trial went ahead in a closed courtroom so the screen was not needed.

All 14 research participants who had given evidence in court were asked how this had affected them – all responses were negative: ‘embarrassing’, ‘exhausting’, ‘degrading’, ‘nerve wracking’ and ‘traumatic’.

It was horrible. I was exhausted; like every part of my body that night was so sore. And it was embarrassing and kind of degrading and disgusting and I felt kind of like I was the one on trial because you know the things they ask you and the things they imply and you’re in a room full of people, 90 percent of whom

I don’t know talking about intimate sexual stuff. Ninety percent of them are men, you know – most of them were men.

7.3.3    Cross-examination
Participants were asked what it was like being cross-examined on their evidence. Most referred to the accusatory, intimidating nature of the experience.

The lawyer was a fucking arsehole!

It undid a lot of the work I did in counselling on understanding the truth of what happened. It reinforced a lot of the offenders’ messages and rationales when I was a child. I almost became a child again.

Oh I hated it. He just made, kept making me feel like I was a bad person, that I was doing things wrong and saying ‘you were intoxicated weren’t you’ and I was like ‘no I had two drinks and I was not intoxicated’.

One participants said that her confusion arising from the cross-examination contributed to a section 347 dismissal by the judge.

It was horrible. The detective said he’d never seen anyone being
cross-examined as long as I’d been. I was on from about ten till four. And he had gone on and on and on and on the second time, ‘Did you invite him in or did he just turn up?’. I said ‘I don’t remember.’ He said, ‘You invited him in or you phoned him’. and I said, ‘Oh I don’t know probably, I don’t remember’. That was me committing perjury because I changed my story.

A further participant observed that, although it was an unpleasant process, the cross-examination had not been as bad as she had expected.

His lawyer used intimidation tactics of slamming down books. But it wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated because I was so well prepared. He didn’t ask any questions that I hadn’t prepared for. I knew that he was trying to intimidate me.

Two respondents thought it was ‘Okay but tough’, but said they had expected it to be like that.
When interviewees were asked for their opinion of the defence lawyer, perhaps not surprisingly, there were only two positive comments. One respondent said they realised, ‘he was only doing his job’ and the other remarked ‘he was very good’. All other comments can be summed up by, ‘I felt like I was on trial’, which reflects their views in general of the cross-examination process.

7.3.4    Facing the accused
Eleven out of the 14 whose case proceeded to trial said they had been told beforehand that they would see the accused in court. They were asked how they felt about this. Seven out of 11 felt a range of feelings, it was ‘hard’ (n=2), they were ‘scared’, ‘terrified’ and ‘nervous’ (n=4) and ‘pissed off’ (n=2). Two were ‘not bothered’ and a further two were glad the accused had to face up to them and what he had done.

I didn’t take the screen because I wanted him not to have anything to hide behind. The hardest thing was having to see him, but I only looked at him once.

One participants found that strategies she had been given to cope with seeing the accused in court did not work so well in reality.

I was really scared and nervous and didn’t want to look at him. And I’d been told that the defence quite often use the trick of standing in front, so when you look at them to talk to them you can’t help but see [the accused]. So I was told at that stage that I didn’t have to look at anybody, I could look at the wall, I could look at the jury, I could look at the judge, I could look at the floor if I wanted to. So I tried not to look at the defence lawyer and then I got growled at for not looking at him. [I] got yelled at – he said ‘Stop shaking your head and look at me’. I’d already been told by [the victim adviser] that I could look at the wall I could look wherever I frigging wanted to. So I made sure that I mainly looked at the judge or the jury.

7.3.5    Outcome of the case
The 17 research participants who had been involved in the court process were asked about the outcome of their case. There were no discernable differences in outcome by ethnicity or gender (see Table 32).

Table 32: Outcome of case (n=17)

Outcome

n

%

Found guilty at trial

8

47

Found not guilty at trial

5

29

Pled guilty before trial

3

18

Section 347 dismissal1

1

6

Notes
1    The judge dismissed the case.

Back to top

In about half the cases the accused was found guilty at trial, and in another three cases the accused pled guilty before the case proceeded from depositions to trial. The remainder of the outcomes were less desirable for victim/survivors.

Victim/survivors’ views were positive when there was an outcome of ‘guilty’ (either at trial or a change of plea) – they were ‘over the moon’. However, understandably, victim/survivors felt let down and angry when the outcome was not a positive one.

[I felt] ripped off. They told me it was very likely he would get convicted, sort of got my hopes up, yeah.

I was fucking gutted; devastated. I had prepared ¬ you know that’s a possibility of not guilty ¬ but to have it just done like that, it was over, done, and he got to walk free …

I was fucken pissed off. I felt very let down, betrayed and angry, a sense of disbelief that he was found not guilty. I felt discouraged, hopeless, wanted to give up. I sank into depression for several months.

Interviewees were asked how they felt about the trial judge; their responses were mixed. Five out of the 11 said the judge’s input was minimal and that the judge had not made much of an impression on them. An equal number made positive remarks about the judge such as ‘really nice’ and ‘considerate’. The only negative comment was made by the victim/survivor whose case the judge dismissed; she said the judge’s actions made her feel ‘violated all over again’.

Victim impact statement
The purpose of a victim impact statement is to allow information concerning the effect of the offending on the victim to be conveyed to the sentencing judge. This statement details in the victim/survivor’s words any physical injuries, property loss and other effects (particularly psychological effects) suffered. The statement is either read by the judge before the sentencing, or, with leave of the judge, may be read in open court by the victim and in the presence of the offender before sentence is imposed.

Twelve out of the 14 interviewees whose case went to depositions or trial said they had made a victim impact statement to inform the sentencing process if there was a guilty verdict. Most comments about this process were positive, victim/survivors found the process ‘therapeutic’, ‘healing’, a ‘relief’ and ‘not too hard’. There was only one negative reaction on the effect of making the statement.

I stopped eating for a while and I wasn’t sleeping properly, got really depressed, yeah really, really depressed.

Only one interviewee stated that she had not been able to say exactly what she wanted to when making her victim impact statement, and another two said there were things they did not remember at the time. A further two said they could not remember, but 7 out of 12 said they had felt able to talk openly during this process, although it was an emotional experience.

Restorative justice processes
Although there is a continuing debate around the suitability of the use of restorative justice processes with sexual violence cases, it has been known to happen both in New Zealand and overseas. We asked interviewees who had been to court whether they had been given the option of participating in a restorative justice meeting with the accused and, if so, at what stage of the process (e.g. before or after sentencing). One male victim/survivor said the Parole Board had notified him that the offender was prepared to be involved in a post-sentence restorative justice meeting – he decided not to take part.

I talked to the counsellor about it and felt that nothing would be achieved.

A female interviewee said she had asked for the restorative justice process to take place as part of the offender’s sentence. The offender, a family/whānau member, refused to take part.

I asked for one as part of the sentence but he refused. I wanted to go through that, not so much for me; I wanted to give his kids and his family closure. Yep it was going to be part of the sentence that I asked for. But he’d rather pay me money (paid $18,000 reparation) than do that, which I thought was hilarious.

This interviewee felt that participating in a restorative justice process could have brought extended family members together and provided some closure in a situation where the family had been divided in their responses to the abuse, with some taking the side of the offender and others the side of the victim/survivor.

7.4    Sentencing

Six interviewees indicated that they had attended the sentencing of their perpetrator at the end of the trial. All of them said their victim impact statement had been read out in court and that this was a healing or empowering experience. Four read it out themselves and the other two were read out by the judge. One respondent who had been sexually victimised by a family/whānau member from the time she was a small child through to being a young woman said that reading out her victim impact statement was an incredible experience.

I shouldn’t have looked at my [perpetrator] at one stage I lost my place. It was empowering. It was deeply empowering. There were public there as well but I needed to, I needed [the perpetrator] to hear the effect that it had had on me and I needed him to hear that I wasn’t going to see him as my [family member] again. I had the court reporter come up to me afterwards and she was in tears and the prosecutor was in tears and the policemen were in tears, they were all blown away by that statement. They said they never ever heard anything so powerful which floored me.

All except one of the accused were sentenced to terms of imprisonment ranging from 4 to 18 years. Respondents said they were satisfied with the outcome of their case.

I had input into this. It was what I wanted.

Great, but a little sorry for him. I was relieved that I had got justice and it had all been worth it.

Surprised. Pretty pleased. Twelve years non-parole. [And he was] to be deported to [a Pacific Island].

Being at the sentencing provided closure for those who attended.

[It was] good to bring that part of it to a closure, to meet other complainants. A shift of the power balance. I saw him as an inadequate feeble man.

I got to give him the ‘evils’ and it felt good.

All interviewees whose perpetrator received a prison sentence said they had been made aware of the victim notification process, although it did not always work as expected.

I signed up for the victims’ notification process, but when he was released

I wasn’t notified. I found out from the community.

7.5    Support and assistance

Victim/survivors who were interviewed were asked if anyone had accompanied them to court; 12 out of 13 said ‘yes’. The victim/survivor who did not have support said this had been his choice. All except one of the others said they had chosen who went to court with them. However, in one case the preferred support person was not available because the court date was brought forward; the court victim adviser supported this victim/survivor.

We can see from Table 33 that support for complainants at court was predominantly supplied by family/whānau members or friends, followed by specialist sexual violence agency support, counsellors and other victim services. All agreed this support was helpful.

Just knowing that she was there and every now and then she would grab my hand or I’d grab her hand and just knowing that she was there, or she’d just put her hand on my leg or something just a little touch knowing that she was there and she was supportive.

Table 33: Support at court (n=12)

Source of support

n1

%

Family/whānau

5

42

Friend

4

33

Specialist sexual violence agency

3

25

Partner

2

17

Counsellor

2

17

Other2

3

25

Notes
1    Numbers do not total 12 because multiple responses could be given.
2    ‘Other’ was made up of Women’s Refuge (n=2) and a court victim adviser.

Back to top

7.5.1    Helpful part of court process
Interviewees were asked what the most helpful and supportive part of the court process had been. Five out of the 12 said ‘nothing stood out’. Four said being able to have support throughout the process, two said being well prepared for what would happen, and one said being able to give evidence behind a screen was helpful. Another also mentioned that the outcome – a term of imprisonment for the accused – had been the most helpful part for her.

7.5.2    Unhelpful part of court process
The same 12 were asked what the most unhelpful and least supportive part of the court process had been. All had some comment to make.

Table 34: Unhelpful/least supportive part of process (n=12)

Issue

n1

%

Treatment by defence lawyer

3

25

The perpetrator

3

25

Giving evidence

2

17

Everything

2

17

Support people

2

17

Lack of information

2

17

Note
1    Numbers do not total 12 because multiple responses could be given.

 

Three interviewees (25 percent) referred to their treatment by the defence lawyer as unhelpful. Three interviewees also commented on issues relating to the accused – that is, having to see and pass closely by the perpetrator in the courtroom and the presence of perpetrator’s support people, usually friends and family/whānau members.

I think having his friends and family in the courtroom at the time. And like outside the courtroom they were saying bad things about me and kind of putting me down and saying that I was a liar. I think that would have been the hardest thing about being in court.

Two interviewees said they found not having their support person beside them while they gave evidence was unhelpful – the support people sat behind them out of sight when they were in the witness box. Two others had issues with giving evidence – speaking slowly made one lose track of her thoughts and not knowing what sort of questions would be asked made the other anxious. Another mentioned the lack of information in general, and a further two said ‘everything’ about the process was unhelpful and unsupportive.

7.5.3    Improvements to court processes
The 17 research participants who had been involved to some extent in court processes were asked what they thought the most important information was to give a sexual assault complainant going to court. Their responses are set out in Table 35.

Table 35: Most important information for complainants (n=16)

Information

n1

%

Giving evidence

11

69

Sources of support

9

56

Likelihood of conviction

9

56

Complainants’ rights

8

50

Other2

1

6

Notes
1    The numbers do not total 16 because multiple responses could be given. One participant who responded ‘don’t know’ to this question has been excluded.
2    ‘Other’ included information on court options, such as being able to have a closed courtroom.

 

Research participants agreed that it was most important to give complainants detailed information about giving evidence, followed by information on all sources of support they could access and, equally, information on whether the accused was likely to be found guilty. They also thought that complainants should be given comprehensive information on their rights within the criminal justice system.

Research participants were also asked what they thought could be done to improve the court process for sexual assault complainants. They suggested:

  • meeting crown prosecutor earlier
  • having more female staff
  • having a closed court
  • having legal advice available for the victim/survivor
  • using screens when complainants give evidence
  • having judge-only trials
  • giving court victim advisers more specialist training
  • having support available throughout for complainants, especially when giving evidence
  • removing the accused from the court when the complainant is giving evidence and being cross-examined.

 

Participants also thought defence lawyers should have to be more respectful, complainants should be given ample time to read documents, and victim/survivors should not be tried.

Victims should not be put on trial. Abusers should have to prove that they didn’t rape or sexually abuse victims.

One victim/survivor felt disappointed about the lack of support in the court system. She felt there was ‘massive misinformation’ regarding when and where her case would be heard: both the dates and towns changed without her being kept properly informed.

The victim adviser – they’ve got to be more clued up. They were fucking useless; excuse my language but they were ... Their ability to relate to victims was minimal. And at times quite condescending, which is really bad because I tend to speak back in the same tone.

7.6    In retrospect

The 14 who were interviewed were asked if they had considered dropping out of the court process at any stage – only three said ‘yes’. Their reasons related to the length of time it took the case to come to trial. Two out of the three said there had been pressure from outside sources for them to withdraw from the court process. In one case, this pressure came from the perpetrator, in the other, which involved a perpetrator who was a family/whānau member, members of the family were pressuring the victim/survivor to drop the charges. A further victim/survivor, who had not considered giving up the court process, experienced pressure from within her circle of friends not to carry on.

Ten interviewees said they had been supported and encouraged to carry on with the court process. Support most often came from family/whānau, friends, the police, and agency/services staff (in particular, specialist sexual violence agencies and Women’s Refuge). When asked what it was that made them decide to carry on with the court process, interviewees predominantly said they ‘wanted [perpetrator] to be made accountable’, ‘wanted justice because what had happened was wrong’, and ‘did not want this to happen to anyone else’.

7.6.1    Media attention
Five interviewees said their case (i.e. the trial) was reported in the media; when asked how this had affected them, their responses were mixed. One said, ‘I would have liked to have been told beforehand’; another found it ‘therapeutic’ as he was not identified, and a third said, ‘It felt victorious, it really validated me’. However, two found this experience traumatic.

I felt furious and violated. It was in the local paper and everyone up here knew it was me. My friends texted me. I didn’t expect that to happen and I was very upset.

7.7    Summary

All of those whose cases went to trial said they had been given information beforehand explaining court procedures, most often by the police or a court victim adviser. About a third, nevertheless, still felt unprepared for the trial. Most met the Crown prosecutor on the day of, or the day before, the trial, and the majority found the prosecutor understanding, professional and pleasant. A minority expressed dissatisfaction with the prosecutor when they felt the latter’s approach was too cold and clinical.

Only two interviewees were offered the opportunity to give evidence from behind a screen. One took advantage of this offer and the other did not need to when the case went ahead in a closed court. All of those who gave evidence described the experience in negative terms such as ‘traumatic’ and ‘degrading’. This was irrespective of whether the accused was found guilty at trial, which he was in over half the cases. In terms of supporting them through the trial, most had support and said they were able to choose their support person, most typically opting for a family member, followed by a friend or a specialist sexual violence agency worker. What they found hardest to manage was their negative treatment by defence lawyers, as well as proximity to the perpetrator and his supporters. Some felt it would have helped to have more support throughout the process and to have their support person more visible and accessible while they were giving evidence.

8    Support systems

8.1    Introduction

Research participants were asked about their contact with support agencies and to elaborate on their experiences with these agencies. Many participants had made contact, or been put in touch, with a wide range of support agencies. These agencies included generic counselling agencies and specialist sexual violence agencies. This chapter gives an overview of victim/survivors’ contact and experiences with these agencies. It also considers victim/survivors’ experiences with accessing and using informal sources of support and how helpful they rated these sources as being.

8.2    Formal systems

Sixty-one (81 percent) of participants said that they had had contact with a community agency or service. This group was asked which agencies they had had contact with and how this contact had come about. The agencies involved are set out in Table 36, according to the primary agency contacted.

Table 36: Service or agency contacted (n=61)

Agency

n

%

Specialist sexual violence agency

36

59

Generic1

14

23

Women’s Refuge2

6

10

Culturally based3

5

8

Notes
1    The ‘generic’ category includes generic counselling (including Accident Compensation Corporation counselling), women’s centres and support groups, men’s support groups, mental health services and church services.
2    The ‘Women’s Refuge’ category’ includes one respondent who sought support from a Māori Women’s Refuge.
3    ‘Culturally based’ agencies were Pacific and Māori counselling services.

 

Thirteen participants reported that they had been to more than one agency or service. The combination most often referred to was Women’s Refuge and a specialist sexual violence agency, with six respondents reporting seeing both. Others typically saw a combination of generic agencies, including Samaritans and Victim Support. One participant had contacted a specialist sexual violence agency, but was told the agency did not deal with historical offences.

8.2.1    Accessing formal agency support
How victim/survivors came to access a formal agency varied. Although no consistent information was obtained on this, what emerges are indicators of multiple pathways.

Table 37 relates to the total sample of research participants. The 58 who were interviewed were also asked how they came to access the particular agency or agencies they did. Of those interviewed, 47 (81 percent) had been in contact with at least one support agency. Table 37 shows how they came to access the primary agency they contacted.

Table 37: How the service or agency was contacted (n=47)

 

Service or agency2

Specialist sexual violence
(n=24)

Generic
(n=15)

Women’s Refuge (n=3)

Cultural
(n=5)

Referral source

n

%

n

%

n

%

n

%

Self-referred

8

33

5

33

1

33

2

40

Police

6

25

0

0

0

0

0

0

Family friend

4

17

3

20

2

67

0

0

Counsellor1

3

13

0

0

0

0

0

0

Other2

3

13

7

47

0

0

3

60

Notes
1    ‘Counsellor’ included a school counsellor.
2    ‘Other’ included mental health services, generic agencies, and individual professionals (e.g. a doctor and lawyer).

 

Table 37 suggests that specialist sexual violence agencies have the highest profile, because a range of individuals and groups within the community identify them as a source of support. Six interviewees said the police facilitated their contact with a specialist agency. This eventuated from their reporting the sexual assault to the police, who, in accordance with the New Zealand Police Adult Sexual Assault Investigation Policy, offered to arrange counselling or support for them. Eight victim/survivors said they self-referred to a specialist sexual violence agency, which for some meant following up advertisements seen in local papers. One interviewee said it took two approaches to obtain a response from the agency she contacted:

The first time, before I made the statement, I contacted [the specialist sexual violence agency] and asked for counselling. They had a waiting list and they never phoned me back. I felt really let down. The second time the police made an appointment with the counsellor for me – this was also with [a specialist sexual violence agency], and was a life saver.

Self-referral emerged overall as one of the key ways by which victim/survivors came to access any form of support from an agency/service, suggesting many were highly motivated to seek and obtain support on the recovery journey. The experiences of some suggested they needed a certain tenacity to access what would work for them. For example, a Māori victim/survivor recounted her difficulties in locating a therapist she could trust, after she lost confidence in the one she had been seeing.

The way that my therapist dealt with it [the rape] was basically the final straw and I just couldn’t take it any longer and I fired her. And so I was on the hunt for a new therapist and so being the smart chick that I am ... I thought I’d ring people who might know a therapist.

She experienced further disappointments in obtaining consistent and ongoing support.

For some victim/survivors, family and friends were instrumental in helping them to access support. In three cases the victim/survivor’s mother arranged for contact with a community-based agency and set up the appointment. In a further three cases the victim/survivor’s partner initiated contact with a support agency. This included a situation where a male victim/survivor’s wife was a counsellor and played a major role in his accessing support from the appropriate agency.

In at least four situations the victim/survivor said their initial contact with the agency had arisen in other contexts, and they ended up disclosing the sexual assault in the course of other conversations or counselling sessions:

It probably just slipped out as I was talking to women at [a non-government organisation] meeting.
When my mother died I actually went to [a counselling service] for grief counselling. I didn’t go because of the sexual incident.

The responses of the victim/survivors reveal a wide range of avenues leading to their being in contact with community agencies and services. As well as those routes identified above, people who made or encouraged the referral included the victim/survivor’s pastor, employer, psychologist, lawyer, doctor, and home support worker, as well as referrals made through the District Health Board and arising from a marae-based gambling hui.

8.2.2    Possible difficulties in accessing support agencies
All 61 participants who had contact with support agencies were also asked whether they had had difficulty in accessing or using these services; about two-fifths (n=24; 41 percent) said they had experienced some difficulty. They were then asked what would have made using services easier; their responses are set out in Table 38.

Most victim/survivors wanted information, with approximately half of those who responded feeling they would have benefited from more information about the services available. The ability to access counselling services when needed was also identified as an issue, along with the need for culturally appropriate services to be accessible. One respondent stressed the need for culturally specific services to be as professional in service delivery as ‘mainstream’ services, after considering this to not have been her experience. Comments were also made about the costs associated with receiving support and counselling, with some considering practical assistance was needed with aspects such as transport to services.

Table 38: What would make using support services/agencies easier (n=24)

Areas of need

n1

%2

Information

On services available

11

46

On counselling options

5

21

Availability

Shorter waiting times

7

29

Increased number of sessions

6

25

Counselling services (e.g. 24-hour services)

8

33

Continuity of counsellor

5

21

Someone to talk to3

2

8

Culturally appropriate agencies/services

5

21

Assistance

Transport to services

7

29

Filling in forms

3

13

Cost of counselling

3

13

Childcare

2

8

Other4

3

13

Notes
1    Numbers do not total 24 because multiple responses could be given.
2    Percentages do not total 100 because multiple responses could be given.
3    Two said they would like someone empathetic with whom they could just ‘chat’.
4    ‘Other’ included those who wanted translation services (n=1), dealing with historical cases (n=1), and protection (n=1). Data were missing for two respondents.


8.2.3    Accessing other sources of support
All research participants were asked to comment on the extent to which they might have used other sources of support. Ten referred to seeking support through church, religious and spiritual associations. Those who considered spiritual support important highlighted the role their faith played and their relationship with a pastor or church leader.

A shamanic workshop in Auckland (six years ongoing involvement) gave me an inner strength to deal with issues.

I found a kaumātua who came and blessed the house. That felt like a really important healing thing to do. I had to organise that myself.

I was at my church – apart from my church I pretty much isolated myself.

Seven participants said they sought help from health and medical services.

I went to my doctor for depression and told him about the rape and he suggested ACC counselling.

Smaller numbers turned to social workers and social work organisations for assistance, particularly with practical support for their immediate needs, such as food parcels. Another emphasised the need for support to manage the alcohol and other drug issues she felt had increased her vulnerability to being raped.

I feel I won’t be safe it I don’t deal with my drug and alcohol problems and they’re holding me back from achieving what I’d like to.

One participant emphasised the importance for her to keep on accessing support from wherever it was available.

Healing is not negotiable. The other alternative is suicide. You have to try to heal or die.

8.2.4    Experiences of support and assistance
The remainder of this chapter presents participants’ views on how they experienced support from specialist, generic and culturally based support agencies, including Women’s Refuge (given the number whose rapes occurred in the context of partner or family/whānau violence).

Levels of satisfaction with agency support
All those who contacted an agency (n=61) were asked to rate their level of satisfaction with the services they received on a scale from 1 (very dissatisfied) to 5 (very satisfied). Table 39 sets out their responses by the type of service or agency they contacted.

Table 39: Levels of satisfaction by type of service/agency (n=61)

Type of agency/service

Rating1

1 or 2

3

4 or 5

Specialist sexual violence2

5

1

29

Generic3

3

2

10

Culturally based4

0

2

3

Women’s refuge5

3

1

6

Notes
1    The rating scale was from 1 (very dissatisfied) to 5 (very satisfied). Numbers vary for this question because multiple responses could be given. However, the base number is 61 (i.e. all those interviewed and surveyed who contacted a support agency/service).
2    Data for one respondent were missing.
3    ‘Generic’ agencies/services were made up of generic counselling (including Accident Compensation Corporation counselling), women’s centres and support groups, men’s support groups, mental health services and church services.
4    ‘Culturally based’ agencies/services were Pacific and Māori counselling services.
5    ‘Women’s refuge’ included one respondent who sought support from Māori women’s refuge. Data for one respondent were missing.

 

More than three-quarters (n=48; 79 percent) rated their experience positively, giving the agencies a rating of 4 or 5 (‘satisfied’ or ‘very satisfied’). Six were neither satisfied nor dissatisfied with support agencies, and 11 (18 percent) said they felt dissatisfied or very dissatisfied with their experience. Four respondents provided mixed responses, having had both positive and negative experiences. These results suggest high overall levels of satisfaction.

In relation to support agencies, interviewees were asked several questions to elicit their perspectives on what they found helpful and unhelpful in their experiences with support agencies. Their responses are discussed in the sections following.

Helpful responses
A major aim of this study was to obtain an understanding of the sorts of things that make a difference and contribute to the well-being of victim/survivors. Those who were interviewed were asked if the agency they had contacted had done anything that really helped them. Table 40 presents their responses by the type of service or agency they contacted.

Table 40: Support from service/agency helpful (n=48)

Agency

Yes

No

Specialist sexual violence

24

2

Generic

11

3

Culturally based1

5

0

Women’s refuge

3

0

Note
1    This includes one ‘partly’ affirmative response.

 

By far the majority of those who had contact with a service or agency said that something the agency did was helpful (n=43; 90 percent). They then went on to describe what they found helpful (Table 41).

Table 41: Helpful responses from formal agencies (n=43)

Response

n1

%

Emotional support

23

53

Listening and letting talk

13

30

Validation and belief

8

19

Teaching coping skills and strategies

5

12

Providing information and explanations

5

12

Availability and reliability

4

9

Safety and trust

3

7

Advocacy

3

7

Note
1    Numbers do not total 43 because multiple responses could be given.

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The most frequently mentioned helpful response from formal agencies was emotional support. Participants appreciated the opportunity to talk and share their story with someone who would listen, while others stressed the importance of receiving validation and being believed. Some felt that participating in groups was helpful because it provided an opportunity to hear how ‘normal’ their fears and responses were. Others felt that talking on its own was not enough and they valued being taught specific skills for coping and managing the effects of rape/sexual assault. Also important to some was the knowledge that support was available when they needed it, and that the environment was one of safety and trust. A few said they valued agencies’ advocacy role.

These responses were mentioned repeatedly during the interview and survey, and are explored more fully below with examples to underline their significance.

Emotional support
The importance of receiving emotional support emerged many times as a critical factor in helping many victim/survivors to manage and move on with their lives. Comments made by some indicated how shattered they felt and how hugely they relied on support agency workers when they were struggling and occasionally suicidal.

They’re an absolute life-saver – dedicated and passionate.

I tried to kill myself and help came pretty quickly after that.

The counsellor saved my life. Even if I won Lotto [the lottery] it wouldn’t be enough to thank the counsellor.

A male survivor said his main regret was that his wife had been unable to access the same levels of support as he had received from a specialist agency.

It has been extremely hard on my wife. We are now separated after 36 years of marriage. It would have been good if she was supported, even though support was offered. In hindsight, the same outlet for my wife would have been beneficial.

Another male survivor also spoke highly of the emotional support received from a specialist agency.

Yes. Definitely. This has been my saviour. I am still in counselling sessions.

In referring to how supported she felt, one woman described a specialist sexual violence agency counsellor as ‘awesome’. She maintained, ‘I’d still be a head case if it wasn’t for [the counsellor]’.


Some emphasised the importance of not having an experience of victimisation define their identity. They did not deny or minimise the impacts of the sexual violence on their lives, but they were also aware that this was an experience that meant they had to rebuild their sense of self. Accordingly, some victim/survivors emphasised how important it was to be emotionally supported in integrating what had happened into their lives and moving on.

The counsellor didn’t dwell on the rape – she showed me how to move on and dealt with other issues in my life, like [domestic violence] and building myself up. She made me realise that I had abilities, and that I could be a counsellor or social worker.

Sometimes participating in groups with other victim/survivors helped.

Having the group to go to was really good. The content was good and it was good to be with a bunch of people experiencing other things.

Being supported in a group context can be an easier, more affordable option than one-to-one counselling, but not all who mentioned having participated in groups found them safe and supportive. Some group participants felt judged by other members of the group. A male victim/survivor referred to the anxieties that could be fostered in heterosexual men when placed in groups with gay men – because gay men are regarded as possible sexual predators. One woman said she regretted turning down the opportunity to participate because at the time she did not want to do anything that reminded her of her victimisation.

They offered me the option of taking part in a weekly self-empowerment group for women and I didn’t go – I wished they had been more directive and at least got me to attend one. I said, ‘I’m not a victim! Leave me alone!’. I wish they had been firmer, given me encouragement or maybe have an incentive for you to attend group.

Listening and letting talk
Many victim/survivors spoke of how much they valued the opportunity to talk freely and at length about what had happened and to have the support worker really listen to them. One young Pacific woman, for example, said valued the ‘quality time’ she got from the agency.

Talking, listening, ‘quality time’. All I wanted really, like from my mother, is some quality time. For her to sit and listen to me. She’s always too busy at church.

A Māori respondent praised the way in which the counsellor at a kaupapa Māori agency allowed her to tell her story.

She listened, eight hours listening. It was the first [time] I knew I could do this. She stayed with me for eight hours, let me release everything that’s inside. I felt like she was going to explode.

What many victim/survivors stressed was how helpful they found being able to talk about what had happened freely, while not having to worry about the reactions of the listener. This is connected to the strong need many spoke of in terms of receiving validation and belief, addressed next.

Validation and belief
Listening was not always enough, with many victim/survivors commenting on the importance of how the listener responded. What many victim/survivors said they needed was validation from the listener. For some this was clearly associated with their anxiety regarding whether what they were feeling or doing was ‘normal’.

Counselling – understanding that the feelings I was having was normal for what I had been through.

Some comments suggested that the support person had to have their own personal experience of surviving sexual assault to be able to validate the victim/survivor.

Being listened to and understood, by someone who has been there.

Often conveyed with validation was the sense that the victim/survivor was believed.

I was believed. There was no suggestion that I was making it up.

Several participants specified how important it was not to encounter any sense of judgement from the support worker. The feeling that others were reacting from positions of disbelief or judgement served to silence victim/survivors, whereas empathic and validating listening encouraged them to share.

She was good. She listened and did not judge me. She believed me. Someone was listening.
We developed a fast bond. She never judges. She gives good advice and it’s easy to talk to her. She’s the only person I have deeply told my story.

Teaching coping skills and strategies
While many victim/survivors appreciated being listened to, some expressed disappointment when support agency workers and counsellors seemed to feel that listening to the victim/survivor talk was all they needed to do. They often felt they needed to be taught how to manage the impacts of the rape/sexual assault
(e.g. dealing with flashbacks, coping with the fear, and managing intimate relationships). One woman said the first counsellor she saw was ‘useless’ in that she just wanted the victim/survivor to tell her all about what had happened rather than provide her with the coping techniques she went there to obtain. Another praised the practical advice given by a support agency counsellor.

I built a strong rapport with her. The methods she used worked. I got immediate coping strategies to get me through on a day to day basis, and medical help.

Providing information and explanation
Some victim/survivors felt a keen need for information. Some wanted information about criminal justice system processes, medical and health issues. Knowing what was ‘normal’ in the aftermath of sexual assault was also identified as important. Another important gap in information involved knowing where to get the help they needed. When respondents were asked, for example, whether they had accessed other sources of support, 22 said ‘no’. Their comments indicated a lack of knowledge about the supports available and a lack of confidence in approaching or accessing services.

One victim/survivor suggested it would have been helpful for an information sheet to be provided, or some means of informing her and others, about what services and benefits she could access.

Availability and reliability
Some of those interviewed stressed how it was important that the support they received was reliable and regular.

They were fantastic. I would recommend them to anyone – not that I hope I would ever have to. I find it really helpful seeing the counsellor at weekly, consistent and regular appointments. It gives me structure. And I am able to talk to [the counsellor] about stuff that I wouldn’t talk to my family about.

The comment above also indicates the importance that can be attached to having a structure to help to provide a sense of safety and containment when a person’s life has undergone such an upheaval.

Victim/survivors also appreciated the fact some agencies provided a 24-hour crisis line that they could access whenever they needed support: as some implied, the lowest and darkest times of the day seldom fall between 9 am and 5 pm. One woman said she was reassured when she was told a 24-hour number existed.

Just knowing that I could ring them at any time if I wanted to ask questions or wanted to talk. I had a card, an 0800 number [a free calling number] that I could ring at any stage that I wanted. That was quite helpful. I never used it but it was nice to know that it was there.

The comment above suggests that the value of a 24-hour number’s existence may greatly exceed its measurable ‘use’ hours.

Victim/survivors said it was important that services returned calls and followed through on any actions. Continuity of support was also important.

When I first phoned, and they didn’t get back to me, I felt let down. The second time I found the most wonderful counsellor.
I changed counsellors half-way through and the new counsellor was very supportive, making daily phone calls and texting me out of hours.
Safety and trust

 

The loss of trust and safety victim/survivors experience because of rape reinforces the need for support to be offered in an environment of trust and safety. It was important for victim/survivors to have confidence that the support agency worker or counsellor was a safe person and strong enough to hold the victim/survivor’s vulnerability. Some victim/survivors suggested that trust and safety needed to be built up over time, and this affected their ability to disclose.

She made an appointment with me and then we started yakking and she got to know me. Little bits at a time. It took months.

This woman spoke of how unsafe she had felt initially, and how long it took before she felt she could disclose, and how she knew she would struggle to share her story with anyone else.

I just stuck to [this counsellor] because she was safe. I didn’t want to go blah blah blah to anybody else – they would think I’m sick.
Advocacy 

The traumatising nature of rape/sexual assault means that in the immediate aftermath of the attack, victim/survivors may need other people to act as their advocates. It is in this context that, for example, the availability of a support person to accompany the victim/survivor during the forensic medical examination and initial police interviewing was particularly significant. Support workers could ensure victim/survivors’ basic rights were adhered to and their welfare needs met.

Longer term, the disempowering effects of rape meant some victim/survivors felt they needed to rely on others to argue their case and protect their rights. Examples they gave included help with securing protection orders, support in court and support in dealing with the police.

It would have been fantastic if someone could have taken action – supporting me to engage other services – I needed advocacy from a professional – I had no clout. [Child, Youth and Family] asked me personal questions in a public waiting room.

Finding the ‘right’ counsellor
An additional factor identified was the importance of finding the ‘right’ person to provide support and counselling, with one person saying she ‘tried’ three before feeling a connection. There was a danger that not linking up with someone ‘right’ for a particular victim/survivor in the early stages could result in them deciding it was counselling per se that was not right for them. Reasonably high levels of confidence and self-esteem are needed to embark on a ‘shopping trip’ to find the right person, characteristics typically lacking in those who have just been raped.

Part of feeling a connection with a counsellor involved feeling comfortable with the styles and techniques the counsellor used. Discomfort in this regard could rupture the victim/survivor’s connection and faith in the process, as evident when interviewees described their huge discomfort at being expected to go along with practices that seemed more ‘alternative’ than they felt comfortable with.
(For examples, see the section ‘Not providing what the victim/survivor wanted’.)

Unhelpful responses
Further information about what was helpful was obtained by asking victim/survivors to comment on things they found unhelpful in terms of support agency responses. More than one-third (n=17; 35 percent) said something was unhelpful. Table 42 presents their responses by the type of service or agency they contacted.

Table 42: Service/agency response unhelpful (n=48)

Agency

Yes

No

Specialist sexual violence agency

8

18

Generic

7

7

Culturally based

2

3

Women’s refuge

0

3

Naturally, some of what participants found unhelpful was the opposite of the helpful responses outlined above; for example, it was helpful to be believed and validated and unhelpful to be disbelieved and judged. Table 43 sets out participants’ responses.

Table 43: Unhelpful responses from formal agencies (n=17)

Response

n1

%

Feeling judged or blamed

5

49

Not feeling safe

4

28

Not providing what v/s wanted

4

17

Not competent or qualified

3

11

Too difficult to access (cost/location)

2

11

Note
1    Numbers do not total 17 because multiple responses could be given.

 

Most often mentioned was the feeling that those with whom the victim/survivors were interacting were judging or blaming them for the rape/sexual assault (n=5). Others said that not feeling safe affected them (n=4), or they had difficulties getting what they wanted or needed from the support agency or counsellor (n=4). There were also concerns that workers and counsellors were not sufficiently qualified to provide the level of service or intervention required (n=3), and that services could be physically difficult to access (n=2).

As with the ‘helpful’ responses, these issues were also mentioned at other times during the interview and survey, and the collated responses on each factor are presented below.

Feeling judged and blamed
Feeling blamed and unsupported by agency workers and counsellors posed difficulties for the small numbers of victim/survivors who experienced this response.

Their attitude. They made it seem like it was my fault that he was brutal and assaulted me physically and sexually.

I was told by [the specialist sexual violence agency] that they couldn’t help me because it [the abuse] was historical. I was pissed off about that because I needed help.

Feeling judged or blamed for what had happened prompted some victim/survivors to see a different counsellor or agency, and could affect both their ability to disclose and to receive help.

The first groups were always judging, judging, judging. I don’t need or want anyone to judge me.

A male survivor similarly felt judged by those he saw.

Too many opinions and judgements i.e. ‘shave your moustache’.

A transgender respondent commented that while having the group to go to was good, it was difficult having to manage ‘a lot of homophobic stuff’ that made it hard to feel accepted. This experience reinforces the importance of recognising that the environment within which a victim/survivor discloses consists of so much more than simply the words that might be uttered – it is vital that a non-verbal sense of acceptance and empathy is conveyed. It also demonstrates the potential for blame and judgement to be forthcoming from other victim/survivors, reflecting the wider societal context of victim-blaming and prevalent rape myths.

Not feeling safe
The extreme levels of fear and vulnerability that typically follow a rape/sexual assault generate a strong need in the victim/survivor to feel safe. This can be associated with feeling they are not on their own and can rely, at least temporarily, on protection from others. Some said that their contact or contacts with a service or agency did not leave them feeling safe, and they felt let down in the process.

The safety team: well, they’re a joke, aren’t they? I’m still waiting for them to ring me back!

Well, they [the service] put me in a safe house. They took me there, dropped me off and I didn’t see them for five days … They didn’t contact me or anything.

At times the physical environment itself could contribute to a feeling of loss of safety. One woman commented about how vulnerable she felt waiting to see someone.

The waiting room was full of men. I was the only woman there. It was really uncomfortable.
Another victim/survivor had specifically asked if she could avoid encountering a family member who worked at the agency she was attending, but a communication breakdown meant she ‘rocked on up’

just as her aunty started her shift, so then had to explain why she was there.

Not providing what the victim/survivor wanted
Some participants were concerned that the agency/service they saw was not willing or able to provide them with what they needed at the time. One Pacific woman, for example, felt pressured to return to her husband and give him another chance, while a Māori respondent found the agency counsellor she saw unhelpful and too controlled by ‘a tight time line’.

Another victim/survivor felt the agency she dealt with was not competent to provide the support she needed.

If they admitted to me that they were not capable of counselling complex cases of rape, that would have been more empowering for me, instead of pretending they knew what they were doing when they didn’t.

Some felt the agency could have done more to encourage them to accept the help available, implying that it could sometimes be difficult to know how to act in one’s own best interests. Some comments suggested that while being able to tell their story was important, this might not be sufficient to assist in the healing and recovery process.

It was good to articulate what had happened to me but they didn’t give me the tools for dealing with it when I left.
I only went to one session, which lasted 30 minutes. I told her my story and was then told to go back another time. I didn’t feel like she provided me with any help.

Several victim/survivors commented that they experienced particular approaches and interventions as inappropriate, yet felt they had to accept help in the form and packaging a particular counsellor offered.

They used counselling strategies that weren’t good i.e. ‘take a look in the mirror’. They gave me too much information. I went a few times but it didn’t feel safe.

Just like making me, like asking me if I wanted to sing songs in Māori and stuff and all that. Even though I’m part Māori it’s just not my thing and yeah she was a bit different I guess, yeah. She wasn’t Māori but she was studying it though.
Counselling is really good as long as you get the right person. One counsellor was unhelpful – new age strategies getting me to hold my arm up to fix my adrenal glands with movements. I was already going nuts – I didn’t need that!

Interestingly, another woman seemed to react against the implication that victim/survivors of rape needed to be seen and treated as ‘victims’. Her response acknowledged that what others could provide might be limited, while also identifying a specific area where assistance might be beneficial.

I don’t know what else she could do. It’s something I will have with me for the rest of my life. It’s important to be able to stand on your own two feet. The thing that stopped me talking about it was that I had to move on and pick up the pieces of my life. I refuse to take on a victim mentality. I need to try to re-establish what I’m like with men now – when I’m involved sexually I get flashbacks and don’t know how to deal with it within the context of mutual consent – maybe I need her to give me strategies to cope.

Not reliable
The vulnerability felt by rape victim/survivors can enhance their need for services to be highly professional and reliable in their availability. Given how hard it can be for victim/survivors to make the initial contact, some struggled when no response or an inappropriate response was forthcoming.

Initially, they just needed to get back to me. I had called them needing help and they let me down.

Victim/survivors also expressed concern when the agency worker or counsellor seemed uncaring and not committed to their well-being.

I was paying [the counsellor] $135 an hour and she was more concerned about her $135 an hour ... I’ve never had a follow-up phone call from her to find out why I never showed up for my last appointment.
I’d become a quivering mess and [the counsellor] would say, ‘That’s our 50 minutes over’. One day she dropped me off at the mental health unit at the hospital and my car was still [at work].

Not competent or qualified
A further issue identified occasionally arose from the victim/survivor’s perception that the support worker or counsellor dealing with them was not sufficiently qualified to provide what was needed.

I went there with the expectation she could help me. I felt there was something wrong with me and I wanted the counsellor to help me to fix it. She never said anything that I didn’t already know. I wanted someone who would ‘get me’.
I started having counselling with them, but it was hopeless – they were way out of their depth – they didn’t know what they were doing I didn’t feel safe with them and the first thing in working with rape victims is that they feel safe. They didn’t know what they were doing and my psychiatrist had to step in and stop me going there.

Some interviewees (n=11) were critical of the agency or agencies with which they had contact. The agency most commonly singled out was a generic, nationwide agency that does not provide specific training around sexual violence.

[Generic agency] – we won’t even go there! I spoke to this woman and I mean like for fuck’s sake. Talk about this woman [being] ill equipped. Obviously she’d just gone through her training and everything. She couldn’t even find me a number for somebody and she, yeah, she just really couldn’t grasp what was going on. Oh she was trying to give me the number of some agency that would be able to help me and it wasn’t even a number, like it was for the Citizen’s Advice Bureau or something and it was like I thought I’m really going crazy talking to this woman!

One interviewee added that the contact she had with this generic agency had been too minimal for her to fully comment, but she wondered whether it would have been better to have a specialist agency worker contact her.

Related to this concern was a sense that some agency workers might lack relevant age and experience, for older victim/survivors in particular. For example, an older Māori woman commented of a support worker, ‘She has never walked an inch in my shoes’, while another older woman who felt she was being dealt with by someone too young and inexperienced thought the latter could have referred her to someone more appropriate.

Too difficult to access (cost or location)
A small number commented that they felt there was a lack of support or recognition of the practical needs of victim/survivors in relation to the costs associated with accessing support.

I want a house or room of my own. I cannot stay with my family any more. I need independence. I will never get better living at home.
Agencies don’t get that you can’t afford to go and see them all the time (transport etc).

Others commented that access to free rather than subsidised counselling would have been helpful.

One victim/survivor’s comments suggested that while, at the time of crisis, a support worker may not make a big impact, what they provide can become useful and necessary later.

I didn’t really notice the [specialist sexual violence agency] support person. I don’t think she talked to me, but I could have been in my own world. She talked to the [Doctors for Sexual Abuse Care]  doctor. When I left she gave me a pamphlet that I kept.

Later, when ready to do so, this victim/survivor was able to use the pamphlet for information and to access counselling support. Another added her concern that at the time it may have been difficult to accept the help offered.

I needed encouragement to grieve more – there’s a need to properly heal. I may not have been able to take the help at the time though.

8.2.5    Overview
The experiences victim/survivors had with formal support agencies serve to reinforce the vitally important role such agencies can play in providing care, information and ongoing support. They also indicate that simply contacting an agency, even a specialist sexual violence agency, does not guarantee that a victim/survivor will receive high-quality and consistent support. While overall satisfaction with specialist agencies was generally higher than that for generic agencies, some victim/survivors felt disappointed and even retraumatised by the lack of service and care they felt they received. One woman, for example, in referring to the extensive contact she had with a specialist sexual violence agency, said, ‘The common experience is one of disappointment and not feeling met’.

In elaborating further, she observed that it is even more important for support agencies not to add to the victimisation experience of those who are sexually assaulted as adults and have a history of other abused or neglect in their lives.

They really need to try not to fuck up with people who are presenting with a history of trauma, not just a one-off event.

What was also emphasised, however, was that even if an agency might disappoint, individuals within an agency can still make a difference and be appreciated for it.

She was just so nice … completely turned my world upside down….her tone of voice, she was so unhurried. She was interested, she was warm. I wouldn’t know her if I walked past her in the street but I have [the specialist sexual violence agency’s manager’s name] in my heart, because she was nice to me.

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8.3    Informal sources of support

So far most of this chapter has focused on the role played by support agencies and counsellors in the victim/survivor’s recovery. Participants were also asked to about the extent to which they may have been helped by informal forms of support. Over two-thirds (51 out of 75) said they had received support from somewhere other than a formal service.

8.3.1    Helpful responses
The role of friends was mentioned by approximately half of the 51 (n=24), with comments suggesting that friends could provide emotional and practical support.

I found out who my real friends were. Hanging out with me when I was really depressed. They made me clean up my house, brought me food, helped me get a place to stay. My family was not so involved.
I had my best friend in Auckland, she came down [to my city] after it happened. She provided emotional support, not my family. I got emotional support from my friend and counselling from the counsellor.
My friends and my workmates: a) They listen b) They give their views if I ask for it c) They believe what I say. They know I am a good person. Their belief helped build my strength and resolve to leave him [the abuser].

Fifteen victim/survivors identified family/whānau members as a major source of support. Comments suggested that particular members within this group provided good support.

Definitely my Mum. She’s always been the biggest support person for me, and like now it’s probably my partner. He knows everything that’s happened and he sits down and talks to me about it sometimes if I get upset and he will sit there and listen.
My aunty – she’s given me excellent support. Just being there. Not judging. Not saying anything. My family [when it all came out] have been a bit perplexed; unsure what to do.

In terms of the kinds of support appreciated, most (n=34) said they found emotional support helpful. It was important in helping some to understand their own reactions and make sense of what had happened to them. The release of being able to talk about it was also greatly appreciated. One woman, for example, said of her friend, ‘She was an ear for me to vent to, someone to talk to and offload to’.

A young woman still at school said she appreciated the support received from a school guidance counsellor, ‘She brought me lunch and supported me when I was upset. Social support makes a big difference’.

When asked to elaborate on forms of support that they found really helpful, 39 interviewees (67 percent) described at least one other form of support that they valued. Not surprisingly, these reflected the factors and themes identified in the discussion of formal agency support. The most frequently mentioned was having someone who would listen and was willing to let the victim/survivor talk.

I found for a while that I was talking to anyone that would listen. I must have been quite a boring person in the first days!

Eight respondents described how important it was for them to have someone who would simply ‘be there for them’. Several specified how it was not even important that they say or do anything in particular, just being there was often enough.

Being there as a friend. He’d come round, help me get out of bed [when I was depressed]; Carried on treating me as a friend regardless of the bleak times. He also had a high knowledge of the sexual abuse area.

Five identified validation and acceptance by others as vital, together with the sense that no one was sitting in judgement over them or blaming them for ‘getting themselves raped’.

Being there and accepting how I felt. No judgement. Assuring me I had a right to feel angry. Accepting me and listening.
They recognised that it was rape and it was wrong. Just because I was married to him didn’t make it OK.

Four identified practical forms of support that they valued, such as a daughter going to the supermarket, a family offering the victim/survivor a place to live, and an employer offering time off work.

Other comments made about what was helpful included assistance two women received from medication. A further two said they were appreciative when carers and family/whānau managed not to respond by over-protecting them and let them go out and do what they wanted to do with their friends.

8.3.2    Unhelpful responses
Fourteen interviewees identified things they found particularly unhelpful. This information helps to clarify how the behaviour and responses of others affect victim/survivors. Several said they struggled when those around them told them how they ‘should’ be feeling. They also felt judged when friends and family acted as if they ‘should be over it’ by now. For example, one woman said it was not helpful when her sisters told her to ‘Get a grip and get over it’, while a male victim/survivor felt negatively judged by a friend commenting, ‘Aren’t you over it yet?’.

A further issue identified by three interviewees concerned their distress when others disclosed what had happened to them without their permission. The loss of trust and control they felt could be huge, as it was for one woman when someone in her workplace chose to tell others.

They told the whole office and called staff who were away to tell them. Their disclosing to the office what happened to me was bizarre. I left my place of employment because I couldn’t face people knowing.

When asked what more could have been done to support them, most (n=30) said ‘nothing’.

No, I think it’s a journey you have to go through on your own.

8.4    Self-help strategies

Much of this section has focused on external sources of support, but interviewees were also asked if they had used any self-help strategies to assist their recovery. Two-thirds (n=39) said they had, ten of whom referred to reading self-help books while four specified looking for material on the internet.

I read extensively – books, papers, websites, trying to understand what was happening in my life, trying to make sense of the fact that this person I had loved and respected had turned into almost a psycho at times. I learnt to take every day as it comes.

I read a lot of Louise L Hay. I love my books. I had to do it secretly.

I read books, looked on the internet – any kind of information about emotions, feelings etc.

One additional interviewee spoke of how reading generally helped her, in her case crime books such as those written by Patricia Cornwell. Similarly, one woman said that spending time online generally was soothing for her.

I go online a lot. Not to counselling sites at all, but just being online or surfing the net brings me a sense of peace. I forget.

Interestingly, one interviewee who said she did not use self-help strategies described how she deliberately chose not to read such material. It was one way in which she tried to contain the effects of the rape.

I didn’t look at other sites etc. I wanted to get on with life. I avoided that kind of thing. I kept it for the sessions with my counsellor.

A further two mentioned specifically the help they received from the Bible, and how it helped to restore the spirit. One remarked, ‘It’s all self-help to get through this’.
Seven spoke of the positive role exercise played in their recovery. One spoke of becoming an endurance athlete and how that helped her regain a sense of strength, while others commented in ways that suggested they found even normal, regular exercise helped with managing their feelings.

I found that I started walking a lot more. Like if I have a lot on my mind, I just go for a big long walk along the beach and that’s what would help me out. I’d put my headphones in and off I’d go.

Six interviewees referred to resorting to alcohol or other drugs, which some saw as helpful and others less so.

I was self-soothing using drugs and alcohol which lasted for years until I got pregnant and was breast feeding.

There was a sense that alcohol and other drug use could feel helpful in the
short-term, at least, as a means of numbing the pain and providing some form of escape. However, if not replaced by more positive self-help strategies, reliance on alcohol and other drugs could become increasingly problematic and ultimately destructive.

Others spoke of the help they received from meditation (n=4) and from accessing alternative health remedies, such as flower remedies. A further four found art and art therapy useful, and two mentioned how therapeutic they found engagement with their pets (a dog and a horse) during this time.

My dog. He died and left a huge gap in my life I think that’s what prompted me to go to counselling.

Other positive activities included gardening and listening to music.

Two respondents, both Māori women, answered this question by referring to the way they chose to lock themselves away or move away in order to heal.

I stayed away from men for one year. I had to learn to love myself properly. Others had to earn my trust. I had to get over that sense of betrayal. Getting away from my home town helped, because it embodied everything that had happened. I needed that break. I needed to learn to treasure myself.
I locked myself away, I needed to do some deep soul searching. I went through websites looking for stories from sexual abuse victims. I read about suicide attempts and depression stories. I went walking. I put energy into my kids – got distracted with my children. I was also drinking/smoking.

Another interviewee said she did not use self-help strategies because ‘I blocked it out as though it never happened’.

8.4.1    Helpfulness of self-help strategies
In terms of evaluating how helpful the self-help strategies were, over 90 percent of those who used them said they found them really helpful (n=33).

I find books helpful – they inform me. I find it difficult to express my feelings and what I’m trying to say. A book will help me put what I feel into words. I identify with the experiences of others.
Reading self-help books, not specifically about sexual abuse, helped – I was wondering if I was going mad and was searching for what was wrong with me. I finally realised it wasn’t my fault.
Art therapy helps me to understand how I’m feeling.

Several also referred to the importance of caring for themselves and being
self-nurturing.

It was mainly me doing nice things for myself. Like when I feel really down I will book in and go and have a massage even when I can’t afford it.

When asked if they found any of the self-help strategies used unhelpful, most (70 percent) said there was nothing unhelpful in their experience. Eleven of those interviewed said some strategies worked well, but others were less useful. Some of those who used alcohol and other drugs to excess, for instance, said they came to appreciate that this strategy was not serving them well. Similar comments were made by one woman who said she used food to soothe until she developed diabetes. Several commented about how many self-help books were available but how not all seemed helpful.

Some books were quite long winded. They need to be short, sharp and give instant practical tips, things to take your mind off things.

8.5    Issues of culture and ethnicity

As regards issues of culture and ethnicity, the interviewees varied in their views regarding the extent to which only members of the same cultural group could provide support. This could be in relation to both formal and informal sources of support. One Pacific woman, for example, said she found friends of other ethnicities more supportive and helpful.

I couldn’t do anything with people from my own culture.

Finding a culturally appropriate counsellor was important for to help some feel accepted and understood. One Māori woman described how much she appreciated having a Māori counsellor.

Awesome. She won’t let me hide. She makes me look at what I’m doing. I prefer a Māori counsellor – she won’t let me ‘bullshit’. We speak the same language and I feel comfortable with her. She lets me speak my mind. She’s helped me to sort out my feelings and think.

This was true also for some Pacific interviewees.

Now I am with a Samoan counsellor. She understands me. I can relate to her. But mostly she just listens to me. It doesn’t matter what I do or say, she listens and then the story comes out. This is when I started pouring out my anger and all my hurt inside.

A woman who identified as both New Zealand European and Pacific spoke of her anxiety regarding how a Palagi (European) counsellor would treat her.

The whole process was awesome – she was understanding. As a PI [Pacific Island woman], I was worried about that a little bit but she was amazing.

Comments were also made by Māori and Pacific interviewees, however, indicating that some felt they had positive experiences of services provided by New Zealand Europeans, with some considering these could be preferable at times. The reasons provided suggested that for some respondents their perceptions regarding the professionalism of the service were more important than ethnic/cultural matching.

I would prefer more professional counselling services, even if by Europeans. The Pacific ones were quite substandard in my view.

Others suggested that they felt issues of cultural similarity were not the only way counsellors could put them at their ease and establish rapport. For one Māori respondent a sense of connection was established when the new counsellor she saw disclosed being gay.

I knew she would have had to go through a lot of crap to come out of the closet, which would make her a less judgemental person.

Even though the interviewee was not gay, she was acknowledging other arenas in which similarities could be experienced that could provide a basis for empathic understanding of the other.

The overall sense conveyed was that while some of those interviewed felt there were clear advantages and preferences to being counselled or supported by those from similar cultural backgrounds, others did not consider this to be the priority and were open to receiving help from other quarters. Some preferred seeing counsellors from different backgrounds because they were worried about confidentiality issues.

I was lucky to find a Pākehā one. There was no way I was going to any Māori agency down there … everybody talks.

8.6    Summary

The majority of research participants had contact with at least one formal support agency, most often accessed by referral from a counsellor or self-referral. A third had experienced some difficulty in accessing support services and felt more information was required about what services were available. Some also felt it was difficult to access services when they were needed, and for the length of time required, and that more culturally appropriate services were needed.

The majority of those accessing formal agency support expressed satisfaction with the service provided, valuing emotional support in particular. Some found particular workers or counsellors less helpful than others, with unhelpful responses including conveying a sense of blame or judgement or failing to provide safety. Having agency workers not follow up on promises made was also experienced negatively, and concern was expressed by some that support services lacked the awareness and training to provide support when victim/survivors were presenting following a background of abuse and neglect and/or in the context of ongoing violence.

Two-thirds of all participants had also sought informal support from friends, family/whānau and others. As with formal support, the most helpful response was emotional support, and a general willingness on the part of others to listen and be there for them. Practical support was also valued by some. Victim/survivors who were disappointed with how those around them responded found it difficult when others told them how they ‘should’ be feeling and if they told others what had happened without the victim/survivor’s permission. As well as external sources of support, two-thirds used self-help strategies, most typically books and, albeit to a lesser extent, internet-based material, and most found these strategies helpful.

9    Surviving sexual violence

9.1    Introduction

A major aim of this study was to gain a greater understanding of the effect of sexual violence and what helped victim/survivors in their healing and recovery. This chapter presents the interviewees’ responses to questions about what they found helpful in the recovery process and how they assessed the influence of other people’s and agencies’ responses when they sought help.

The first part of this chapter summarises the responses to questions about how interviewees considered the sexual assault had affected them and their relationships with others. In considering their responses, it is important to remember that each person was asked to describe how they were affected rather than select answers from a list of possible effects. The approach adopted allows the interviewees’ assessments of what they identified as the key impacts to emerge. It also means the responses given are likely to underestimate the prevalence of each impact, because some interviewees chose to describe multiple impacts while others stressed particular impacts.

9.2    Impact of the sexual assault

9.2.1    Overall impact
In outlining the overall impact of the sexual assault, virtually all of those interviewed (56 out of 58) described serious ways in which the assault had affected their lives. The responses of the 56 who described being affected by the sexual assault are summarised in seven broad categories in Table 44.

Table 44: Impact of sexual assault (interview sample; n=56)

Impact

n1

%

Major effect on life overall

40

71

Mental and emotional health

34

61

Sex and intimacy

25

45

Behavioural

22

39

Cognitive

20

36

Personal and social

17

30

Physical

14

25

Note
1    One responded ‘don’t know’ and another said it had not had a major effect.

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Major effect on life overall
The 40 who described the impact of the assault as major, indicated it had affected every aspect of their life and well-being. Many described this in terms suggesting they felt their lives had been ruined by the assault.

Everything was shattered ... Everything – it just brought everything to a head, historic stuff.
A huge impact. I don’t trust many people, I don’t trust men. I don’t trust at all. My reaction is to say it’s ruined my life.
My life’s a mess, yeah. Yep I sleep on the couch, I have quit my job. I have anxiety attacks all the time.
I felt like I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. My heart had been replaced by coal.

Some also referred to how the rape precipitated a dependence on alcohol and/or other drugs as a means of managing the effect.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. I got into alcohol and drugs and lost my ability to turn up to work. I got into horrific relationships with men who didn’t hear me. I lost the case of my daughter who moved back to live with her father. It felt like I had no closure.
The childhood attacks framed my whole life and my views of life. I was expelled from school and started taking alcohol and drugs and hooked up with the Mongrel Mob. I was angry and not proud of myself. I had no self-esteem.

Seven of those interviewed referred explicitly to how the sexual assault left them vulnerable to later sexual and physical assaults. Some women described seeing connections with the kinds of men they were later attracted to, linking this to years spent in abusive relationships. This kind of linking, discussed also in the section on family violence, is more likely to be evident when the earlier assaults were not responded to positively or in validating ways.

When I was 16 I was the first victim of the Mangere serial rapist, and no one believed me. The minister of the church told the police I was a little slut and not to believe anything I said. It wasn’t until he tried to rape me a second time and my father woke up and chased him out of the house that anyone believed me. When I went through court I was unsupported and it was worse than the actual rape. Being unbelieved and unsupported by my family had a terrible impact on me, and affected my response to repeated rapes by my husband later.

Most respondents to this question referred to specific areas of their lives that were affected by the rape/sexual assault, the most commonly reported of which are presented in the sections following.

Impacts on mental and emotional health
Thirty-four interviewees described how the sexual assault had had significant impacts on their mental and emotional health. The most frequently mentioned impact was fear and anxiety (n=21), often a generalised fear and anxiety that affected their daily lives.

It has a big impact on me. Even after the court case was all done I wasn’t able to sleep in the dark – I needed to know and to always be ready – always watchful. I couldn’t be left in the house by myself.

Others also mentioned specific fears, such as fearing the perpetrator’s return.

I’m scared for my personal safety, I freak out at noises; I fear him coming back.
I worry about things: that he will turn up or his family members will turn up. This is not a family of respectable people. So I have fear of the family and repercussions. There is a chance that [perpetrator] could pop up at any time.

The next most commonly reported (n=9) mental and emotional health impact was depression.

I’m mentally up and down. I go through stages – I have for 25 years. There was a terrible stage in my mid-20s and then in my early 30s where I had a mental breakdown. It’s lessening over time and I know when one’s coming. It’s like it’s always there but 90 percent of the time I can cope when I’m down.

Eight referred to experiencing flashbacks and being triggered into recalling previous experiences of sexual assault victimisation. These intruded into victim/survivors’ capacity to sustain intimate relationships and could re-awaken an overall sense of fear and vulnerability.

Also mentioned by five interviewees were such impacts as high levels of anger, dissociation, and symptoms associated with post-traumatic stress disorder.

I used to have, about the only way I can word it is, I used to have a’ fuck off’ attitude, as in shoulders back, head up, big wall around me saying ‘don’t screw with me’. ‘Don’t screw with me – you’ll come off second best.’ I’ve frequently been described as a grizzly bear.
Lots of anger. Losing it with every little thing. I get mad because things aren’t going to plan.

Two interviewees also specified turning to self-harming behaviours in the aftermath of the sexual assault, and one developed agoraphobia, so found it difficult to go out, take public transport, even to get counselling help.

Sex, trust and intimacy issues
Twenty-five interviewees referred to how their abilities to sustain intimate and sexual relationships had been affected by the rape/sexual assault; of these, 18 referred to a loss of trust in men overall.

My ability to trust men has gone. There would be only about three men in my life that I trust and one is my father, one of them’s a [colleague] and one of them is my friend’s husband. And that’s it.

Not trusting men had clear effects on interviewees’ willingness to interact socially and their ability to enter into and sustain intimate relationships. One referred specifically to a life of celibacy after rape. Another described how suspicious she became when a man was nice to her.

I have lost trust in people, especially people that are really nice. Oh I just avoid them like the plague, especially men. I went out on a date a few weeks ago and this chap wanted to shout me dinner. He did everything nice and then just before he walked me to my car he gave me this massive bunch of flowers and asked me out on another date and that put me off instantly. I thought, how manipulating. The guy could have been the nicest person in the world but it just brought back red flags. So I said to him I don’t want to see him again.

Some interviewees referred to trust issues specifically, others (n=16) commented that they felt they had generally struggled with having intimate relationships after the rape. In some cases, interviewees also attributed their relationship with a significant other ending because of the impact of the rape. Others spoke of how the loss of safety they felt extended into a general discomfort regarding touch from anybody, affecting everyday relationships and communication.

Some of those who had also experienced previous sexual abuse experienced confusion around love and sex, and found that this affected their adult relationships.

For a long, long time I displaced sex for love. There are a lot of little things about me that people find strange but to me they’re just normal – like I won’t let my partner see me naked.

Two interviewees, one male and one female, also referred to feeling confused about their sexual identity following the rape, and six said they now realised their subsequent promiscuous behaviour was attributable to the rape.

Behavioural impacts
The ways in which victim/survivors are affected are often manifest in changes in behavioural patterns. In this study, 22 interviewees referred to ways in which their behaviour changed significantly.
The most commonly mentioned change related to the disruption experienced in their work or study behaviours (n=16). For many this was evident in the difficulties they faced motivating themselves to go to work when they had reduced concentration and confidence.

I’m not working, my boss said take some time off. Not wanting to leave the house, my confidence has gone down.
At work it’s affected my motivation and concentration.

A limited ability to work can also affect victim/survivors’ financial status of. Some referred to the dire financial circumstances they found themselves in, and the difficulties of raising children as a ‘single Mum’, when their ability to work was affected.
At least two interviewees, however, referred to using work as a distraction, becoming almost ‘workaholic’ in their attempts to keep busy. One said she now recognised how the multiple jobs she took on provided a means for her to try to escape her feelings. Another described how she began working as a sex-worker in the aftermath of rape.

I got into prostitution afterwards to help me get my control back.

Victim/survivors may try to cope with the effects of sexual assault by turning to alcohol and other drugs. In this study, nine interviewees said they developed a dependency on alcohol and/or other drugs, sometimes using these to excess.

I started drinking, I became a problem drinker. I was using drugs and I didn’t think I was a good parent.

Alcohol and other drugs were identified both as a way to help victim/survivors sleep and to keep them awake.

I started drinking and using drugs to get to sleep.
I turned to party pills to stay awake.

One interviewee referred specifically to becoming a heavy smoker of cigarettes following rape, to the extent that she developed emphysema in later life. Another, however, said her response to being raped was to reduce her alcohol intake.

Socially, I stopped going to town [night clubbing]. I don’t drink to the same extreme now, I’m more aware of drinking levels.

Cognitive impacts
A further common effect of sexual assault is evident in the ways it can negatively affect victim/survivors’ thinking about themselves. Twenty interviewees referred to such cognitive impacts, with the largest group mentioning a loss of self-esteem (n=13).

I lost myself somewhere. I lost ‘me’. I couldn’t accept anyone that told me I was beautiful. I was truly was suspicious – I couldn’t even say thank you.

Others referred to feelings of self-doubt, self-blame and self-hatred. How they saw themselves had changed, some feared irrevocably.

It killed every little bit of self-respect.

A Pacific woman related how her life changed in the wake of her altered view of herself.

I was angry and not proud of myself. I had no self-esteem … I was expelled from school and started taking alcohol and drugs and hooked up with the Mongrel Mob [a gang].

Several referred to feeling suicidal or having attempted suicide, while others spoke of various ways they began to self-harm.

Personal and social impacts
Seventeen interviewees mentioned ways in which they felt their personalities and social selves had changed following the rape. The majority of these (n=13) described ways in which they had withdrawn socially, to the extent of sometimes becoming isolated and reclusive.

I am separating out and distancing myself from family again. I push people away.

Some spoke of the pain of aloneness, of feeling as if no one could understand and no one was there for them. Others referred to feeling as if their personalities changed (n=5) and to heightened feelings of vulnerability (n=5). Two described clearly how they tried to bury their feelings and project an outer confidence.

I pretended it didn’t happen. I was loud, life of the party, extroverted, outrageous. I left and went to live somewhere else. Then I came back. I became very careful and still am.

I became the great pretender! I was doing well at work, but I would never share those experiences with him as he would become suspicious or angry or violent or abusive. I closed up as a person.

Being able to sustain any kind of social life became increasingly difficult for some interviewees.

My friends would ring me up and say, ‘Oh hey, do you want to go and do this?’. I’d be like ‘Oh no’. [This interviewee tried to make herself physically smaller on the couch as she answered this question.]

Another described how she felt the stigma and shame of rape effectively forced her into isolation.

I feel dirty – like tainted or something, I’m a tainted woman. I’ve got isolated a lot and I don’t want to do a lot.

In describing the way she self-isolated, one interviewee observed that this was one of her key survival strategies at the time – to stay out of sight.

Physical impacts
Fourteen interviewees identified ways in which the sexual assault affected them physically. Difficulties related to sleeping were described by nine interviewees, three of whom also referred to disruptions caused by nightmares.

I couldn’t sleep at night. I couldn’t, after it happened I could no longer sleep on my bed, I had to sleep in the lounge for three months. I couldn’t move out of my house. I had nightmares, I couldn’t sleep in my bed. I actually ended up getting insurance for a new bed because I just couldn’t sleep in it.
For me it meant that I couldn’t sleep. He would try and do stuff while I was asleep. I was not safe. I knew not to tell him any other stuff – I’d get punished as well.

Six also referred to specific physical ailments, including migraines and auto-immune diseases.

I had diarrhoea constantly, I had anxiety, I had to have sleeping pills, yeah I changed. Like I said my personality changed.
I’ve ended up with lots of gynaecological problems, I can’t have children.

A further two interviewees described how their relationship with food was affected by the rape: one described a pattern of not eating that had to be broken, while the other referred to over-eating for protection.

Positive impacts
When asked how their behaviour towards others had been affected by the rape/sexual assault, four victim/survivors referred to what they saw as positive outcomes. For two this meant bringing them and other family members closer; the other two specified ways in which they felt happier and were less judgemental of others.

Summary
The interviewees’ responses indicate the diverse and multi-faceted ways in which the rape/sexual assault had had an impact on their lives. Interviewees were not the only ones whose lives were affected, as the next section explains.

9.2.2    Impact on those closest to victim/survivor
The effects of rape and sexual assault are not confined to the victim/survivor alone, but typically ripple out to affect those closest to them. All interviewees were asked to describe the impacts on whichever relationships were appropriate to them. These are presented below.

Husbands and partners
Eleven of those interviewed referred to having partners or husbands and spoke of how the latter had been affected by the sexual assault. Most (n=9) said the impacts on their partners or husbands and/or their relationships with them had been negative. Some became angry and violent, scaring the victim/survivor even more, while others struggled to respond at all.

I have told him. But he didn’t really talk about it and I think he doesn’t really want to know.

The strain on relationships could be too great in some cases, and brought some marriages or partnerships to a close. One woman was devastated when her partner accused her of making it up, and as a result their relationship ended.

In two instances, however, victim/survivors referred to how they felt their relationships had received positive benefits from their experience.

In some ways it really strengthened our relationship – we’ve got through it.

Former husbands and partners
All of the 12 victim/survivors with former husbands or partners said the latter had reacted badly to the sexual assault. In some instances a partner became an
ex-partner because he was the perpetrator of the sexual assault.

It helped me to see clearly the type of guy he was.
On the day of the rape I ended the relationship. I didn’t want to be touched.

Others spoke of the ways in which they felt their husbands or partners at the time were unable to manage when their wives or girlfriends were sexually assaulted, spelling the end of the relationship.

He had to look after me over the years. It stopped him from being himself. He was always trying to protect me. It had a huge impact on me. We are now separated.

Children
Children whose parent is sexually assaulted can often be negatively affected. Of the 35 respondents with children in this study, three said the child was a baby and too young to be affected, while a further two found it difficult to answer this question.

Sixteen of those interviewed spoke clearly of the negative ways they felt their children had been affected, with this being particularly evident in the context of overall family violence issues.

They knew there was yelling and shouting. It shows in them – they’re having counselling. My son is angry – he became my ex-partner and my daughter became me – she’s so withdrawn.
I’ve had a lot of behavioural problems with my 15-year-old son. There’s a lot of anger. He hates him [the perpetrator]. He says if he sees him he will kill him, which I understand. No, I mean we talk openly and I know daughter (20) is really, really angry and gutted but we talk really openly. More so with my daughter than my son.

In five cases the mother said she had lost contact with her children as part of the aftermath of the sexual assault.

I lost the [custody] case of my daughter because I wasn’t able to look after her.
It impacted on them because the assault contributed to the relationship break up. I did not see my daughter from 7–16 years.

Two described how the rape reduced their ability to be available emotionally to their children. A further seven tried to protect their children from knowing and wanted to keep the rape a secret, although three later disclosed it to their children.

My young son – we’ve got a really good relationship and I always try to protect him from anything. He’s never seen me cry and I was locking myself in my room and just crying and he never saw me upset.
I have two children. The older one I tried to shield and hide. The younger one
I made sure that he never saw or heard anything. Basically I hid everything from my children, until recently I explained to my older son. He said ‘Why didn’t you tell me all that?’.

Although the numbers are small, there was some indication that the sons of women who were raped tended to react with hate and anger, while the daughters appeared to react fearfully and be upset. Several women spoke of the behavioural problems they had experienced with their sons, and how their sons scared them by expressing high levels of hate and anger, threatening to go and kill the perpetrator. Some said their daughters became very anxious and fearful, to the extent they felt they also might need support and counselling.

Other parents (n=5) became overly protective of their children.

I watch like a hawk, I am very protective about all children.
I am over protective. My children, especially my daughter, can’t understand why. I won’t tell them. I am trying to do things that my parents never did for me.
I look after my kids – like a jailer! Male and female. I keep my eyes on everyone especially the teenagers.

In other cases (n=3) the mothers were aware of how it was their children who became highly protective and anxious about them following the sexual assault.

Again, in some cases positive benefits resulted. A male victim/survivor, for example, related how he felt his children gained a greater appreciation of how he behaved once they knew he had experienced sexual violence.

They were very supportive and understanding. Now they understand their father’s physical distance.

The responses overall indicate that the majority of those with children were aware of how their sons and daughters had been negatively affected and struggled at times to maintain a positive connection with them or to not respond over-protectively.
The children were typically affected by the sexual assault of their parent, even when the latter may have tried to conceal the abuse from them.

It impacted on my mental health – if I’m not coping it doesn’t help them.

Parents
The decision to disclose sexual assault to their parents was an even harder decision than disclosing to offspring for some victim/survivors, and it was also more difficult to determine how they had been affected. A total of 41 of those interviewed responded to this question.

In nine cases, the victim/survivor opted not to tell their parents; the reasons they gave suggested they feared the outcome of such a disclosure. One woman, for instance, was scared of how volatile her father was and feared the ‘explosion’ that would follow.

I didn’t tell my father/nana/whānau as nana gave my sister a hiding when she disclosed sexual abuse.

In one case the victim/survivor struggled with telling her parents of a recent rape because her father had sexually abused her as a child and she was still angry at her mother.

A further three said they had waited a long time before disclosing and found it a difficult thing to do.

I only told my mother two weeks ago. She’s glad I’m having therapy but sad I couldn’t tell her sooner.

Of those who told their parents about the sexual assault, 14 said their parents were strongly affected and struggled to cope with it. Some spoke of how difficult it was to see, for example, how ‘heartbroken’ their mothers became, and how anxious they felt about their daughters as a consequence. Others talked about how their fathers struggled with knowledge of the rape, and how their parents generally found it difficult to express their feelings.

My father had two heart attacks (one when he found out). It was rough for my mother but she doesn’t show her feelings.
It had a huge impact on my mother. She found out two months later when a friend told her. She didn’t know how to deal with it. She was hurt and had strong emotions and she didn’t know how to deal with it.

It was difficult for some parents to support their children. Sixteen interviewees described feeling unsupported by their parents or that their parents were incapable of supporting them. In four cases, the victim/survivor felt disbelieved by their parents while three felt blamed by the parents for what had happened.

My mother was aloof and confused about what was expected of her. She made it about herself.
[My parents] feel threatened by me and are still in denial. All my family. Even though I have turned around and become a professional counsellor now and people come to me for help, my parents can’t believe it.

One young victim/survivor felt her parents expressed their care for her by trying to nurture her more in the aftermath of the sexual assault.

[They gave me] more love. It was not they treated me that much differently, they just kept asking me how I was and making sure I was okay and coping alright. Making me eat and making me go to bed early and resting.

As some of the above quotations show, there were also indications that victim/survivors considered that their parents could be affected in opposing ways, and in at least two cases there was a marked difference in the parents’ responses, with one parent being supportive and the other not. This, in turn, negatively affected the victim/survivor as well.

Other family/whānau
A total of 35 of those interviewed commented on how the sexual assault affected other family/whānau members. Responses were divided, with some finding particular family members very supportive and others not. Disclosing the sexual assault within the wider family could be traumatic.

It blew up the whole family. It was awful. But it had to be done.

Eight described clear ways in which they felt a family member had supported them. In some cases this was by providing practical support – for example, one woman described how her sister-in-law not only offered her a place to live but also put boundaries in place to help her to control and manage her drug and alcohol use. Others felt emotionally supported by various family members, sometimes because the latter sympathised because they had experienced their own abuse.

Two experienced strongly disbelieving family members, with one linking this to her feeling ostracised by her own cultural group.

I don’t associate with the [ethnic] community, because I feel that people are talking about me behind my back at functions. They say, ‘girls [from our community] don’t do things like that’. It has made me doubt my culture.

Seven interviewees said they felt anxious that male family members in particular were so angry they would engage in some form of violent retaliation. This fear was expressed in relation to fathers, brothers and sons.

My big boy [25] wanted to kill him. He’s asked me to buy him a particular tool ‘for his carpet laying’ that I know won’t be used for carpet laying!
Dad was really, ‘I’ll go find him!.’ It was like, ‘No Dad, you’re just going to make matters worse, just leave it up to the police’. He was very, very angry. Yep. No one touches his baby.

One woman spoke of how her fear of her brother becoming angry kept her from telling him for over a year about what had happened to her.

My brother and I are really close and I actually thought he might have got on a plane and come and beaten him up and I didn’t want him to go to jail. Yeah, he was always the big brother that looked after me. After I told him he said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me at the time?’. I was like, ‘I didn’t want you to go to jail for me.
I was already going through enough – I couldn’t have dealt with that’. He cried.
I think he told my mum and dad because they’ve totally changed towards me We weren’t that close but now we’re really close.

When interviewees identified particular sources of support, these were sisters (n=6), brothers (n=4), aunties (n=2), grandmothers (n=2), and a sister-in-law (n=1). Six interviewees described feeling alienated and isolated from family members, some of whom felt blamed for having ‘brought shame’ to the family.

Friends
Forty-seven of those interviewed responded to a question asking about the impact of the sexual assault on their friends. Six said they had no or few friends, and a further seven said they did not tell their friends.

Of the 34 who told friends, 10 described ways in which their friends were divided in terms of how believing and supportive they were.

Some are good – they support. Others (less close) aren’t really interested and I don’t discuss it with them.
The good ones are still there, the others are gone. One good friend, we would do things together, normal things, and not talk about it, not make a big issue of it.

Some victim/survivors struggled when friends took sides.

Some were protective, and some called me a slut and said I deserved it’.

Some found it especially difficult when female friends were not validating of their experience.

I had one woman who, because she questioned what had happened to me, I told her what had happened and she went, ‘Oh for god’s sake – that’s not rape! It’s happened to me, it’s happened to lots of women’. The fact that I’d asked him to stop because he was hurting me didn’t matter. That really hurt.

This particular victim/survivor said she was further confused by another friend who had initially told her she thought what had happened was definitely rape and supported her in going to the police, but then later refused to make a statement or be involved further.
Another spoke of her horror when the person she thought was her friend started a relationship of her own with the perpetrator.

I lost a lot of friends. One of my ex-mates is now writing to him in jail and they plan to get married when he is released.

Victim/survivors were divided between those who experienced positive responses (n=15) and those who did not (n=12). Some described receiving ‘awesome’ support while others felt hugely criticised and even ostracised.

I have put my friends through the mill, but they have been astounding.
I would have lost all my friends of my age. They thought I was doing the wrong thing I was very, very close friends with a family who, up until the court case, actually included me as part of the family and when the court case came round they just disowned me. Like they were more of a family to me than my own family for most of my life. But they felt that it was so wrong what I did to the old man that they disowned me.
I had people never talk to me again and I have been called names … Some friends, yes, they were judgemental. It was like my fault even though they never said it. I felt like I couldn’t have a glass of wine anymore, which is something I’ve always loved to have, because ‘What if … you know, if something happens to her?’. I had to really overcome this. I was in my own home with my friends staying the night with someone I didn’t even invite to my house. Why should I change who I am for the one thing that happened to me? I had to really overcome that … I’m not going to blame myself; I’m not taking that on.

Five respondents talked about how their friends had been affected, with some feeling more anxious and fearful. The victim/survivor’s disclosure, however, sometimes encouraged friends to make their own disclosures, prompting some to feel shocked and saddened at the realisation of how widespread the problem of sexual violence is.

I didn’t realise how many had been abused; it isn’t talked about. Why is it so taboo?

Colleagues
There were 21 interviewees who said they had colleagues at the time of the rape/sexual assault. In five cases the victim/survivor chose not to tell their workmates about what had happened.

I pulled away. I couldn’t face anyone.

Eight described ways in which they felt supported by the reaction of their colleagues, feeling that at least some of those they worked with had been helpful, understanding and non-judgemental towards them.
Two of those interviewed outlined negative responses.

My employer didn’t cope with it and made a public disclosure at work.

Five offered information indicating that they felt their own work or study had been negatively affected by the sexual assault. They had needed to take time off and their ability to concentrate had deteriorated. One also said the heavy drinking she resorted to in an attempt to deaden the impact of the rape had interfered with her ability to work.

Community
There were 20 interviewees who referred to the impact of the sexually assault on their wider community. Three experienced a divided response from family members. A further three experienced at least some positive support, while seven felt there had been a negative response from some quarters. Their answers indicated the strong pressure some felt from church and cultural groups following disclosure.

Everybody in the church found out. I was ostracised because of it. The pastor’s reaction influenced their decision.
I confessed to the priest. He tried to give me advice but he didn’t listen to me. I told another priest and he discouraged me from leaving and told me to stay in the relationship.

Four of those interviewed outlined ways in which they felt one of their responses to the sexual assault had been to remove themselves from local community groups. They described feeling unable to keep participating in youth and group activities, letting hobbies go, and generally withdrawing.

I have only just started to build contacts. It has taken this long because I was needing to be invisible.

Others affected
When asked whether anyone else had been affected, only 11 interviewees answered. One respondent described feeling as if everyone in her world was affected.

Everyone – it altered whoever I met.

Six others mentioned family members they had previously not referred to, reinforcing how the numbers cited in the responses to these questions are likely to be underestimates. The more they thought about it, the more victim/survivors realised just how widespread the impacts of their having been raped had been.

In considering how others were affected, one even wondered how the perpetrator may have been affected, aware as she did so that she might be viewed as making excuses for him.

I know it’s, it’s defending him but he didn’t out and out attack me. But he didn’t get a yes, so that’s still a no, but he wouldn’t be like, ‘Oh, she’s in no condition’. He’s not that smart obviously, but it wasn’t out of spite or cruelty, it was just out of lust, I guess. It was there so he took it.

Another, raped by a club patron, spoke of how men from the same club as the perpetrator were affected.

I think it did affect them. There were quite a few different groups of them but they all got along together and so I think some of them were quite heartbroken for me. Like when I walked in they just give me big hugs and all their support … Except for his quite close friends – they didn’t actually come into the bar for a while so that it made easier for me as well.

A further two referred to how practitioners they disclosed to reacted, with one expressing concern for her therapist.

[She] gets very affected by it. It’s a big and heavy load to hold, and she disappears. It’s difficult for someone to stay present. They may have intellectual understanding but it still hurts.

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9.2.3    How victim/survivors were affected by others’ behaviour
Those interviewed were asked how they were affected by the behaviour of people around them. Of the 37 who answered this question, one-third (n=12) said their response had been to withdraw inside themselves. They described shutting themselves off, even to the extent of becoming a social recluse. While some withdrew and felt alone, others (n=6) described feeling excluded by others – either way, the result was feeling isolated with their pain.

I knew that if anything happened to me I was on my own. I got no support from my family or church when I was 16. When my husband was raping me I knew that there would be no support for me and I just had to handle it on my own.

A quarter (n=9) commented how hurt they felt by how others perceived them and responded to them, and this contributed to their feeling isolated from others.

It really hurt. I also felt kind of like ostracised and I feel quite, I don’t know, dirty.
The loss of friends is still an impact on me because it still hurts, because if I put myself in their shoes then no, I couldn’t walk away. If a friend was going through that I couldn’t walk away. I’d be there, off to the side when they wanted me to be there, but I would never turn my back on them.

Also difficult to manage was the sense that no one understood how it was for them. Six victim/survivors described struggling with feeling that others thought they were ‘crazy’ or were offering inappropriate advice as a result of failing to comprehend the realities.

A lot of the time in my head I felt like, ‘These people think I’m fucking crazy’, you know. And especially if I sort of mentioned things to people I knew, I was thinking, ‘Oh my god, you know, they really think I’ve lost the plot’.
They don’t understand and you don’t want people’s opinions on rape and what happened to define every aspect of your life.

Although some did feel misunderstood or disbelieved, others (n=5) made comments indicating that some positive aspects were derived from the responses of those around them. For some, it was an important lesson in learning who their ‘true friends’ were, as was receiving a stronger sense of how much others loved and cared for them.

I felt loved and cared for. I had a strong relationship with [a] Pākehā [specialist sexual violence agency] and with Women’s Refuge.

An important aspect mentioned by several related to the tension felt about what it means to be ‘a victim’. Other people’s reactions could be important, even normalising, influences.

The more normal they were, the more normal I was. The more they freaked out, the more I freaked out. They were my gauge.

One victim/survivor spoke of how she had to consciously move herself along from the victim position, which was difficult when it brought with it positive attention.

What the responses to this question provide us with is a sense of both the importance of how others react along with a sense of the loneliness victimisation can bring.

9.2.4    What helped others the most 

Interviewees were also asked what they thought had helped those around them the most to come to terms with what had happened to the victim/survivor. Of the 37 who responded, four said they did not know while the remaining 33 suggested factors they thought might have helped.

Of the 33, nine said they thought the fact others could see the victim/survivor was getting better was the most helpful thing for them.

Seeing that I am ok – what I have achieved in putting my life together.
My ‘growing the balls’ – being my own voice and speaking out; confronting the perpetrator and telling my sister the story.
That I could stand up straight and hold my head high.

Three said they thought those around them benefited from receiving support and having someone they could contact. One victim/survivor spoke of how valuable it was for her parents to be able to ring the detective who interviewed her, and said how exceptional he was at being available not only to her, but also to them. She believed this also helped to bring her mother and father together, as well as unifying their support of her.

Six stated strongly, however, that those around them had not come to terms with what had happened, or that while one or two might have, the rest of the family had not. Some lamented the way family members were in denial about the rape, and others felt family members did not understand and had run out of patience with them. Some despaired that those around them would ever understand and be there for them.
Three said they felt greater levels of understanding would have been appreciated, whether of the impacts of rape generally or a preparedness to listen to the victim specifically.

I thought it might be good for family members to have a rape victim tell them what their daughter might be feeling, what might be useful for her, how to offer support.

A further three considered counselling might have helped those around them, and two felt it would have helped them to see the victim/survivor was all right and was recovering.

9.3    Healing and recovery

A major aim in this study was to gain an understanding of the various factors that helped victim/survivors of sexual assault in their healing and recovery. This section explores what the respondents said about a range of possible factors, with the aim of identifying the most influential factors affecting their recovery. This section presents material obtained from all research participants (n=75).

9.3.1    Who helped the most
Research participants asked to rate on a scale from 1 (not at all important) to 5 (very important) the importance of the role played by key players in their recovery.
The results are shown in Table 45.

Table 45: Importance of support/events for healing and recovery (n=75)

 

Rating1

1 or 2

3

4 or 5

Source of support

n2

%3

n2

%3

n2

%3

Counselling/therapy (n=69)

6

9

4

6

59

86

Friends (n=63)

10

16

12

19

41

65

Self-help strategies (n=58)

5

9

7

12

46

79

Family/whānau (n=56)

15

27

6

11

35

63

Specialist sexual violence agency (n=43)

4

9

2

5

37

86

Police (n=36)4

17

47

4

11

14

39

Generic/community agency (n=34)

8

23

10

29

16

47

Partner (n=30)

9

30

4

13

17

57

Trial (n=17)5

4

24

3

18

9

53

Other (n=5)6

0

0

0

0

5

100

Notes
1    The rating scale was from 1 (very dissatisfied) to 5 (very satisfied).
2    Numbers vary for this question depending on the circumstances for each respondent. The base number is 75 (i.e. all those interviewed and surveyed), and the number responding to each question is in brackets beside each source of support.
3    Percentages are based on the numbers responding to each question and may not total 100 because of rounding.
4    This is the number who reported the assault to the police.
5    This is the number whose case went to court (depositions or trial).
6    ‘Other’ is Accident Compensation Corporation funding, Christian faith, recognition and being believed, group therapy and meeting other survivors, and working in the social justice area to tackle issues of sexual violence.

 

The factors most commonly identified as having a positive impact on healing and recovery were counselling and therapy, and support from specialist sexual violence agencies. Of the 69 who commented on their experiences of counselling and therapy, 86 percent rated this as important or very important in their recovery; similarly, of the 43 who had support from a specialist sexual violence agency, 86 percent rated this as important or very important. Self-help strategies were also highly rated with 79 percent of those who used these strategies considering they played an important or very important role.

Next most highly rated were support from friends (65 percent); family (63 percent) and partners (57 percent). Of those whose cases went to trial, 53 percent rated this experience positively in terms of the contribution it made to their healing and recovery.

There were two key players whose impact on healing and recovery was rated as less significant. While fewer than half of those who received support from generic and community agencies rated this as playing an important role in their recovery process (47 percent), more marked was respondents’ assessment of the role of the police. The police were the least likely to be identified as playing an important role in recovery (39 percent) and the most likely to be rated as having little or no importance in this process (47 percent).

9.3.2    What helped the most
All research participants were also asked what they felt really helped them the most on their road to healing and recovery. More than half (n=40; 53 percent) stated that counselling had helped the most, with some suggesting it had transformed their experience.

Antidepressants did not do much to help but counselling did. I feel I’m a whole different person now. I have begun to find myself.

More than one-third (n=26; 35 percent) referred to the importance of having support from others. Of these, 10 mentioned specifically how they valued the support they received from a specialist sexual violence agency. A further nine referred to how much they valued support from their friends or from a specific friend in the recovery process, while six referred to the importance of family members.

Five respondents said it was the support obtained from people generally that they valued.

I think the support from everybody kept me going instead of letting me get into a black hole. Like keeping positive, that’s probably been one of the main things. Is everybody being so positive.

A few referred to appreciating the support received from those they interacted with in the criminal justice system and/or the validation from being believed. Two said their religious faith was what helped the most in their recovery.

Being able to know I am worth more than to be abused, that I am worthy of love, created by the love who is God.

Several respondents mentioned particular individuals whose support they considered had been a major source of strength and support for them – these included a church leader, a detective and an employer. Their comments suggested that having even one person committed to understanding and supporting the victim/survivor had the potential to make a difference in their lives.

Although support from others was acknowledged as helpful by many, some respondents (n=15) also recognised the value of their own actions and attitudes and how these contributed to their healing and recovery. In particular, they referred to the strength needed to survive and the importance of regaining control of their lives.

I finally decided that I was no longer going to be a victim but a survivor. I became strong.
Believing in myself, that I could be the person that I was meant to be … the me that I was meant to be. Get the life I was meant to have.

Others mentioned their determination to not let the experience beat them – as one said, ‘Being bloody minded’. Moreover, seven said they felt simply the passage of time was an important aspect, giving themselves time to heal and to be with themselves.

A further factor six participants identified was the power of disclosure, and how positive and empowering they found the experience of naming and telling others about the rape/sexual assault.

Bringing it out in the open is the best thing to happen. It has helped me to move on, taking that first step.

An important aspect of disclosure is the response of others to it, and four respondents referred to how important it was they felt others believed them and, in some cases, that the perpetrator accepted responsibility for what happened.

That he admitted it. He gave me back my credibility – no, I’ll rephrase that, I claimed my credibility and integrity back.

The importance of not blaming themselves and being able to believe in themselves was also cited as important by six respondents.

9.3.3    Impact of location on recovery
All respondents were asked if they felt that where they lived and their access to services had affected their recovery. Seventy answered this question, four of whom said they ‘did not know’. By far the majority of those who answered said they felt where they lived had affected their recovery (n=54). It is important not to attach too much significance to the numbers in each grouping within this section because this question was interpreted in many ways.

About half of those who commented said where they lived had affected their recovery positively (n=26). Within this group, nine referred to how the area in which they lived influenced their ability to access support services. Most referred to how the larger metropolitan areas had more available and accessible services, and commented that in Auckland, for example, its size allowed for specialist rooms to be available.

Fifteen of those interviewed suggested they felt that where they lived affected their recovery negatively. For six it was because they lived in the same area as the perpetrator. Five referred to how they felt their access to services was negatively influenced by their living in a small town where less support was available than in a bigger urban area.

Twenty-eight of those who commented referred to whether they had moved away from the area they were living in after the rape/sexual assault. Of these, numbers were divided roughly equally into three groups: those who moved away and thought this had positive benefits (n=11); those who did not move and thought this had positive benefits (n=8); and those who did not to move and thought this had negative consequences (n=9).

It was clear some felt there was merit to be gained from continuing to live and recover in the area where the rape/sexual violence occurred, suggesting they regarded the ability to ‘stand their ground’ as important.

I can say I have conquered here where I was beaten.

This is where it happened. This is where I must come right.

For others, however, shifting location seemed imperative to their recovery.

Moving away from the person [to another city] to get a distance and prevent his attempts at control.

I had to come to New Zealand to make the break.

Those who spoke of finding it difficult to live in the area where they were sexually assaulted referred to the discomfort of seeing, or fearing they would see, the perpetrator and the ‘triggers’ that existed in their day-to-day environment.

Analysis of the findings revealed that this question was ambiguously interpreted. At least eight respondents answered by referring to their particular home environment rather than the geographical area it was located in. Of these, all but one considered their home environment had positively affected their recovery, which could be in terms of people or the physical dwelling:

Yes, I trust the person I am living with.

I thought of moving, but didn’t want to have to, so had the house cleansed and blessed.

The remaining victim/survivor said where she lived was having a negative effect on her recovery.

That is why I want a place of my own. I will never recover if I live at home.

All research participants were also asked if they thought their access to services had affected their recovery. Of the 69 who answered, most considered access to services was definitely an important factor (n=60; 87 percent). They referred to such benefits as the ability to ‘tap into’ a range of organisations, to have access to a safe environment, and to the importance of being able to see counsellors who believed in them and were committed to advancing their well-being. The factor of being able to choose from a variety of suitably qualified counsellors was also seen as significant.

[Town] lacks counsellors – there is only one and if you don’t like their counselling style you have to go to another town.

Those who said they lacked access to services indicated they wished there had been greater and easier availability of services.

We have fewer ACC-registered counsellors and they have waiting lists.

Some felt disadvantaged through not knowing or being told about service availability, and felt their lives could have been quite different had they been able to receive qualified help when they first needed it. Several talked of there being a financial barrier, and one resented having to obtain counselling through ACC. Somewhat paradoxically, it emerged that while some victim/survivors said they felt safer and more comfortable living in smaller towns or rural environments, these were also the contexts where it could be the most difficult to access skilled and qualified support.

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9.3.4    Hardest part of the recovery process
All research participants were asked to describe the hardest part of the recovery process; 72 responded to this question. While no single aspect predominated, key aspects emerged.
The mo st frequently cited aspect (n=14) was the difficulty victim/survivors felt when they had to face oth
Eight said they found the hardest aspect was the first time they told others what had happened.

Telling someone the whole story in detail. My therapist is the only person who knows everything in detail and it’s a relief that someone else knows. It’s like having a huge secret and wanting to tell someone but I can’t trust anyone with the information.
Talking about it the first time. Breaking the silence about what had happened to me. Explaining it was like reliving it.

Eight referred to the hardest part being the shift required within their ‘head-space’.

Trying to stop being the victim because I was just so used to it. And I did actually enjoy it to a point but like trying to stop that was very hard. Getting used to not having that attention any more was a bit of a culture shock.
Admitting what had happened and not protecting him. Also telling my family.
Accepting that I’d been raped. I still struggle with it now and then.

Six respondents spoke of the hardest aspect being having to cope with others not believing them. Six spoke of the loneliness being the most difficult thing to manage.

Six experienced going through the court case as the hardest part of the process, especially when the outcome failed to secure the alleged offender’s conviction.

The police being so useless – I still don’t understand why I didn’t get my day in court.
Trying to come to terms that even though he is in prison it doesn’t change anything. He is punished but it doesn’t take away what he did. It doesn’t make me feel better.

Six respondents identified the hardest aspect as being learning to manage the fear and anxiety they felt in the aftermath of the rape/sexual assault. For some this was tied to their fears regarding the specific perpetrator, for others it was a more generalised anxiety.

Five respondents felt their biggest difficulty had been associated with the loss of trust they experienced and their inability to sustain intimate relationships:

I don’t make friends easily – I chose never to have live-in-relationships again.

Other factors identified by smaller numbers included managing recurrent flashbacks, having to ask for and rely on other people for help, and not understanding why the rape/sexual assault had happened. Several also said that the time they struggled the most was during the period immediately after the rape/sexual assault, and before they had the means to make sense of what was happening to them.

Right at the start when I thought I was going crazy I was really depressed.

Others (n=6) said they struggled to identify a particular aspect as the hardest when everything felt so difficult.

It’s all been hard – my anger and lots of emotions too – it was also like betrayal. I just want to run away and hide.

The relevance of this question seemed a factor for some – four participants said they could not answer because they had not yet recovered.

What helped the most
All respondents were asked for their views about what had helped them the most in getting through the hardest part of the recovery process. Of the 71 who provided comments to this question, three said they did not know what had helped the most.

I’m not aware of what I did to get through it. I have never been able to work out what it was that helped me survive.

Of the 68 who did identify one or more particular factors, counselling was most frequently cited (n=30; 44 percent). Less commonly mentioned, but also clearly important, was talking to others (n=9), whether that was friends, family/whānau, or a church leader – anyone willing and able to listen and respond appropriately.

A further nine victim/survivors felt that what helped them the most was particular friends who could support them and whose support they could rely on. Some (n=6) stressed the importance of positive thinking, while a further six felt their becoming more confident and assertive in how they managed their own feelings helped them most.

The significance of taking back control following rape/sexual assault was also cited by six as one of the most helpful aspects of their recovery process, particularly in contexts where the perpetrator was a partner or family/whānau member:

Taking the first step and saying ‘This is the last time you are going to do this to me!’.

Smaller numbers referred to the support of family members or the need to recover for their children’s sake. Several respondents mentioned reliance on their faith, writing and focusing on things outside themselves, such as work or study. Four spoke of how they found becoming actively involved in trying to effect change helpful in their recovery.

I just decided I was going to start becoming involved in working towards change… For me, what’s helped me is being actively involved … I was involved in getting a petition to parliament. I’ve been to Wellington. I spoke at a select committee in parliament. Yeah so I’ve done quite a bit really.

Another commented similarly how she felt her own experience galvanised her into action, and how this had been helpful.

Even though I’m gutted and devastated and pissed off and everything else, I hadn’t realised that the system sucked so badly and that I’m one of many. So, you know, it’s like anything I can do to help change it is a positive thing.

9.3.5    Extent to which the healing and recovery process is complete
A difficult issue for many victim/survivors is assessing the extent to which they consider their healing and recovery process to be complete. When all 75 research participants were asked this question, three said they did not know, but most (n=63; 84 percent) said they did not consider their recovery to be complete.

Half of those who felt they were still undertaking the healing and recovery process (n=32) identified internal and mental processes that they felt still needed to happen. Significant among these were the statements many made demonstrating how profound the impact of the rape/sexual assault had been on their sense of self and identity.

I’m still struggling with believing that I am nothing more than an object of beef and a filthy piece of human flesh. I am still struggling with that. That’s why I’m working on it.

Some felt they could not say the recovery process was complete when they were still experiencing flashbacks and being triggered, I’ve got a long way to go. I need to get the nightmares and flashbacks under control’. Although this woman, and others, saw flashbacks as indicative that further healing was needed, one respondent appeared to see herself as having recovered even though she still experienced flashbacks. Her comments suggested she lived with these as a survivor of rape rather than viewing them as confirming her status as a victim.

Others referred to the strong emotional feelings they still held regarding their victimisation and felt they needed to deal with the hurt and anger before they could move on. A male victim/survivor said he felt he would not fully recover until he ‘got some answers from the perpetrator’, while others felt there were simply so many areas of their lives to deal with.

I am getting there. Changing the way I think. Changing my thoughts and behaviours so I am safer. Sorting out my thoughts and feelings. I’m scared I’ll still have setbacks, that I will never be okay about sex.

Five referred to factors external to themselves that they thought needed to happen before their healing was complete. For example, one wanted everyone to believe her, another wanted another court case, and one wanted the offender deported, although most seemed to suspect their wishes were unrealistic.

At least 14 said they considered the recovery and healing process would never be complete. One simply asked, ‘Is it ever over?’. They felt the effects of the rape would be something they would need to manage for the rest of their lives.

I don’t think that anyone ever totally heals. With something of that magnitude it is imprinted in you, but I have come a long way.
No. I don’t think that you’re ever really complete, I think that you just learn to live with it in a better way, that the memories aren’t as fresh and you can sort of blank it out and it’s not always there.

On the other hand, nine victim/survivors did feel they had healed and recovered, and been able to move on with their lives:

To be quite honest I’m doing absolutely fine. I’m doing all the things I was going to do, without him which is great. Yes I can do things without you.
It’s great. So yeah, life is good … I actually feel like I’ve conquered something pretty bloody big.
I am not prepared to be a victim and have this affect my life.
Because I am not in that mindset ... Counselling helped me to process the pain.
I feel fine about it – part of that is that I’m employed in Women’s Refuge and work with women around this. I’ve reared my sons to know that this is not their prerogative and my daughters to know that they have a choice.

9.3.6    Positive outcomes
It is paradoxically both a confounding and an understandable consequence of traumatic events that they often bring positive benefits in their wake. This was apparent in the responses of the majority of those interviewed for this research.

Of the 56 who answered this question, most said they did consider that at least some positive outcomes had derived from this experience (n=51; 91 percent).

Many (n=15) said they appreciated the ways in which their experience had increased their levels of awareness and prepared them to be better able to support others. An additional outcome cited by many (n=14) was the way in which they felt this experience had made them stronger and more resilient as a person.

Yes, there’s been lots of positives out of it and I try to remember that. I’m so much stronger as a person. I’ve got more passion for things. I know what I want more. I like who I am more. I don’t know how many people could go through what I went through.
It’s made me grateful for everything. I’m sure every day I wake up I’m grateful. Gosh, it sounds like a really boring, boring quote for like a million self-help books but you know it makes me feel grateful for all the things that I’ve done, all the people that have helped me … I think I’ve done a great job and I always pat myself on the back that I’ve woken up and I’ve just been given another chance, you know. It’s kind of like being told that you’re terminally ill, but hey you’re not terminally ill, yay. Being cured, yeah. I’d liken it to that.

Having to deal with the trauma of sexual violence helped some to learn more about themselves, a fact they appreciated (n=10). Others referred to how their self-esteem had improved (n=6).

I’ve grown up a lot. I have a sense of self-worth, ironically.

Four also mentioned how they considered it was good that they had learned not to be so trusting and to look after themselves more.

I was pretty naïve about where I went. I have led a charmed and protected life. Not any more – I take more care.

Five respondents felt they had derived no positive benefits from this experience.

It’s the most insidious thing.

9.3.7    Advice to other victim/survivors
Research participants were asked if they had advice for others who might need assistance with healing and recovering from rape/sexual assault. Four said they did not feel they had any advice to offer.

I couldn’t say – I’ve only been through it twice.

Of the 54 who provided comments, the most common advice was for victim/survivors of rape to obtain counselling and support in the aftermath of sexual assault, and to do all they could to get help (n=23).

Get help as soon as possible. Get help sooner rather than later – before you spiral down.

One Māori woman had advice for other Māori victim/survivors, ‘Give this Pākehā counselling system a chance’.

Again, some stressed the importance of finding the ‘right’ counsellor, if necessary looking round until locating a skilled and appropriate person. This might be a counsellor with whom they ‘click’, someone they feel they can trust.

Some counsellors aren’t right for some people and if they [victim/survivors] don’t feel comfortable with the person they’re with, get another one, because that is really important. If you can’t talk to the person that’s meant to be helping you, you’re not going to get any better.
I don’t sort of see [her] as a counsellor as such. I see her as somebody who, you know, she’s somebody I really, really trust and I sort of see her more as a friend that I talk to about certain things on a certain day … Yeah, I trust her.
And that’s something you’ve got to learn – to trust again. I’d recommend her to everybody but she can’t heal the world because she hasn’t got enough time.

Concern was also raised regarding the requirement for services tailored towards meeting the needs of specialist groups, such as for people with disabilities or people managing alcohol and other drug issues – whatever issues need addressing.

You need to accept the services that are offered to you. You need to find a person who knows about all the services and what’s available.

Seventeen victim/survivors felt the most important thing they could advise others was to tell someone what had happened. While this could be a counsellor, many felt this could be friends or family/whānau members – the important thing was to find somebody trusted who would listen in a non-judgemental manner.

Talk to somebody, someone who will not judge, be confidential and listen. We all know the answers we just have to get the crap out of our heads – it’s us that have to heal. Anger and hate takes so much energy and wastes your life. I wasted so much time being angry.
Tell someone straight away. That is really important – the longer you hold it in, the more damage it does. It causes physical illnesses too. Get into counselling and deal with it straight away.

While acknowledging the barriers to disclosure, one young victim/survivor spoke in ways suggesting the importance of not being silenced by shame and self-blame.

Virtually everyone knows what’s happened. You know, I’m not embarrassed. Gosh, I would not be embarrassed over that! Someone that you loved turned out to be a monster. You’re not to know that.

What many said (n=12) was that it felt difficult to say what might help someone else when everyone was different. This also meant realising that while others who want to help may mean well, they do not necessarily know what is best for an individual victim/survivor.

Everyone’s different. I mean, as strange as it must sound, some people think sexual assault isn’t that major – ‘Yeah, okay, I was raped’, whatever. But then there are those others who – ‘Oooh, I’ve been raped!’.
I don’t know. I mean everything’s different for every person. I know that if people come up to me and say, ‘Oh, you just need a good holiday love’, I would probably punch them in the face and say, ‘Get fucked! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about’.

Many comments suggested that ultimately each individual has to determine what will work for them, with it sometimes being more important for those wanting to help to refrain from giving advice in favour of supporting and enabling victim/survivors to determine their own paramount needs as well as their own best pathways to recovery.

In relation to accessing the criminal justice system, there was some division in the advice these victim/survivors would give others about whether to go to the police following rape/sexual assault. Seven said they would advise others to report such an offence, citing the importance of not letting offenders get away with it as well as the benefits that could come from reporting:

I think that’s what is gained through the process will frequently outweigh what is lost. The learning that you gain is just phenomenal and the support and comfort.

Some advocated an active stance, rather than simply entrusting a case to the system.

I would still say report it, don’t not report it. But surround yourself with people and have support and, and ask more questions.

Others, however, were adamant that it was better not to report (n=3). Comments from the latter suggested they considered it more important to get support for oneself than expect positive benefits from involvement with the police and criminal justice system.

It’s a waste of time going to the police. Just go to support groups and things like that – seek counselling.

Other advice generally included encouragement to keep going and not give up, and to take control of their life. An interesting emphasis stressed by five respondents was to advise others to keep things in perspective. These victim/survivors appeared to be acknowledging the danger of having such an event define one’s life and identity, and were stressing the importance of resisting such a tendency.

It’s a matter of maintaining social contacts, physical exercise, trying to maintain as much of life as possible – don’t let it consume your life. We have been victims but don’t let your interactions with the world be as a victim.
Don’t let it affect your mind – it’s only a body blow.

9.4    Summary

Most victim/survivors described ways in which the rape/sexual assault had negatively affected the whole of their lives, affecting in particular their mental and emotional well-being. Sex  and intimacy and a range of behavioural, cognitive and social aspects were also commonly affected. Many also described the impacts on those around them, including partners, family members and friends – the results show the ripple effects of rape/sexual assault. In terms of what helped the most in recovery, the most commonly cited answer was counselling and therapy. Also rated highly was the role of friends, family and self-help strategies. The majority did not feel their recovery process was complete, with some wondering if it would ever be. Most nevertheless felt there had been at least some positive outcomes to come from this experience, citing in particular their own increased levels of awareness,
self-understanding and self-esteem. When asked to provide advice for other victim/survivors, over half said they felt the most important thing was to obtain counselling and support and do all they could to get help.

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Disclaimer

This report was commissioned by the Ministry of Women’s Affairs. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in the report are intended to inform and stimulate wider debate. They do not represent government policy.

Published in October 2009
by the Ministry of Women’s Affairs | Minitatanga Mō Ngā Wāhine
PO Box 10 049, Wellington, 6143, New Zealand
Phone: 0064 4 915 7112
Fax: 0064 4 916 1604
Email: mwa@mwa.govt.nz
Website: www.mwa.govt.nz

ISBN 978-0-478252-41-5 (Print)
ISBN 978-0-478252-44-6 (Digital)

Last modified: Nov. 13, 2009 9:18 am