Victim Impact Statement

This Victim Impact Statement was shared in the courtroom in 2004 as Anne faced her rapist fourteen years after the crime. The article was subsequently published in WNC Woman as well as in A Fierce Belief in Miracles.

Anne was asked by Diane Sawyer to appear on Good Morning America for an interview after her court appearance.

Victim I was not
Impacted I was

A court date had been set for April and I was asked to write and deliver a Victim Impact Statement. I agreed to the task, not knowing where it would lead me, but quite certain it was part of the path of finding strength. As well, the detective informed me that the Washington Post was interested in my story. A reporter’s name and number were given to me in case I wished to share my experience with the public. I wasn’t quite ready for that.

Most of my focus was placed on putting words around the impact this event had had on my life. I sat with it for three months, puzzling over how I could write what I felt. While I knew that most Victim Impact Statements were expected to relay all the horrible outcomes of this heinous crime, I knew that wasn’t the total truth for me. With a fourteen year buffer between me and the event, I knew there was so much more that had transpired from that one abominable act that I viewed quite clearly as a gift. How could I share in words what I had gained through the experience without condoning the crime?

I asked for reflection from friends and from counselors and eventually produced the following statement which I read in Prince William County Court on Friday, November 19, 2004:

I was raped in July of 1990. It was a beautiful summer day, and I was enjoying a road trip on my bicycle exploring back roads. I loved the freedom I felt on two wheels with the sun on my back. What a stark contrast this incident was to my intention for that day.

As one can expect, this crime has had a huge impact on my life. Without this experience, I feel I would have missed out on much of the richness available to me. While I don’t believe this richness need come only when faced with adversity, I do believe this horrific event provided a background of contrast that created a more vivid palette for my life. At age forty, and fourteen years after this event, I can honestly say that I’m grateful for the growth this path has provided me. 

While I do not condone Mr. McDonald’s act, and feel he should receive his just sentence, I’ve come to accept this as a chapter of my life that has provided me with the potential for my personal healing and development.

There are many facets of this growth that I believe serve witness to the impact this rape has had on my life, and I’d like to share a few of those:

The day I was raped, I learned about friendship and kindness when a stranger picked me up along that dusty road and took me crumpled and terror-stricken to the closest paramedic unit. A rather new acquaintance made calls to dentists for me. 

I had two teeth that were knocked out of place, and a kind doctor agreed to stay late to help me. Unfortunately, the teeth were irreparable, the roots damaged. I would eventually have to have root canals and other reparative work done to them. 

I learned about letting go as I had my favorite blue biking shorts and shirt, stained with blood, bagged by police, and taken away for evidence.

I grew into new ways of viewing my freedom as I had my trusty touring bike covered in black fingerprint dust returned to my apartment. It sat untouched for weeks.

I remember with disgust the volunteer at the hospital who came into my room to read scripture and tell me I could be forgiven for my sins. I experienced what it felt like to be shunned at the health center when I went in for a pregnancy test and shared that I had been raped. I quickly learned to trust my own knowing that I had done nothing wrong.

A dear friend of mine drove to see me the day after the rape; he loaded me in his car and drove me to my parents’ home. My parents were mostly silent, unable themselves to process the emotion of what had happened. I learned that those who love you often have the hardest time expressing their hurt to you.

At the beginning, I remember with some fuzziness passing many days in deep fear, jumping at the smallest sounds, panicking at daybreak, dizzy from my lack of breath, unable to face crowds or put myself in the presence of strangers. I learned to give credence to my intuition and listen to my body.

Months passed, and I had the opportunity to participate in group and personal counseling, both of which I abhorred, as it was extremely challenging to get to the emotion of my experience when that emotion was mostly trapped in my body. I learned patience with the process and had the opportunity to look closer at my own character.

I woke many nights with a vivid picture of the perpetrator in my head and often drew pictures of him hoping that putting it on paper would somehow purge my body of my relentless fearful thoughts and feelings. This taught me to let my emotions flow through me.

I learned about patience and trust as I waited ten days to receive the results of my HIV test. 

I experienced my lack of readiness for learning self-defense when I broke into uncontrolled tears at my first class; I learned how to be kind to myself.

After several more months, I did complete a self-defense class that allowed me to release lots of the emotion I had packed in my body. My women colleagues where I taught high school all came to support me at my graduation. 

I learned how deeply all women are affected by acts of rape and abuse, and I learned wherever women come together, there is intense power that can be created.

A year after my rape, I left Manassas, hoping to leave my intense emotions behind and find a more peaceful environment in which to heal. Initially panic set in, and I gradually learned how to build a support system for myself. I had the good opportunity to find a wonderful group of supporters at a local rape crisis center, whom I called on periodically when my body was remembering the trauma and my mind didn’t know how to process it.

After much more counseling and lots of tears, I undertook training as an advocate at the rape crisis center and also served on their speaker’s bureau. There I learned how very many women shared my horror, and I learned how to respond appropriately to those who were healing as well as those who had never experienced rape.

Within a couple of years, I had received training in women’s self-defense from a number of programs and began teaching assertiveness training to young women. I had great passion for the topic and quit my teaching position at a local high school to devote my time fully to this endeavor. Through this I gained confidence and strength and a deep admiration for women.

As time has passed, I have thought about that horrid day less and less. What has remained is a fairly constant and often severe pain in my pelvis and hips. This pain began the year following the rape and has certainly been my most constant reminder that there is emotion that has not been released—it’s my body’s reminder that I still have some growing to do. 

I have met with all types of medical, psychological, and alternative health professionals over the years, always hoping to find the path that would relieve my pain. I’ve gone through too many months of feeling tired and frustrated from this drain in energy, and weeks of being unable to walk. 

I have two young children now who are vibrant with life’s energy, and I long to experience my own peak health and fully enjoy my time with them. Indeed, I’m ready for that piece of growth that provides me my freedom.

The time for that growth is now, and my intent for participating in this sentencing is to close this chapter of my life, to release whatever negative emotion I’m still holding in my body, and to feel the freedom and joy that I so clearly had that morning fourteen years ago when I left home to enjoy a day of biking.

Some people tell me I’m courageous for appearing in court. I believe I’m blessed to have the opportunity to experience this part of my healing process. This event is for me a symbolic statement of hope, justice, and my own personal freedom.

Writing this statement for the courts gave me a new sense of awareness and gratitude about what the experience of rape had given me. In many ways, I felt stronger for what this exercise revealed. Presenting this in person to the court, my family, friends and perpetrator would be the next step in this process. All around, it seemed to be shaping me for being a vessel to hold greater strength.

If you’d like to learn more about my journey, I invite you to read A Fierce Belief in Miracles.