One Chance to Listen: What Rachael Denhollander’s Story Teaches Us About Believing Survivors
- Kylie Walls
- Sep 5
- 4 min read

For many survivors of abuse, silence is a survival strategy — one that made perfect sense at the time because it kept them safe. Over time, though, the silence and hiding that once offered safety can become a heavy burden to carry.
Rachael Denhollander, the first woman and gymnast to speak publicly against Larry Nassar, a sports physician who was convicted of sexually assaulting at least 156 young female gymnasts, has shared openly about why she was silent for many years. Rachael’s experience provides important insight into the dynamics that often lead victim-survivors to withhold their stories of abuse until long after the events have occurred.
Rachael spoke candidly about the fear and cost of bringing her story into the light. She explained that “speaking up… felt like yielding the last bit of privacy and security I had left.” In that moment, silence felt safer. When trauma occurs, the body instinctively turns to survival strategies — fight, flight, or freeze. Remaining silent can be understood as a form of the freeze response: shutting down in order to feel safe.
The freeze response is especially common when a victim is unsure whether it is safe to disclose or whether they will be believed. A person’s perception of this safety is often shaped by earlier experiences, as well as feelings of shame about what happened and fears about how others will respond.
One of the most sobering parts of Rachael’s story is that when she did disclose her experience to a trusted gymnastics coach, she was not believed. Reflecting on this, she later said: “Saying something is one thing. Being heard — and believed — is another. You usually only get one chance to be a safe place for a victim” (Harris, 2018). Her words are a powerful reminder of how vital it is to listen to victims and believe them the first time they find the courage to speak.
Our earliest experiences often teach us whether our vulnerable needs will be met with care or with dismissal. When a disclosure of abuse is ignored or brushed aside, the nervous system encodes a powerful message: “It’s not safe to try again. My voice won’t be heard.” For many victim-survivors, from that point on, silence feels safer than risking disbelief, blame, or further harm. This kind of invalidation is both painful and deeply confusing.
For all of us, Rachael’s story is a poignant reminder that creating a safe space — where people’s stories are heard, believed, and validated — matters far more than protecting reputations, institutions, or our own comfort. As she warns, “you usually only get one chance to be a safe place for a victim”.
Furthermore, Rachael’s story also illustrates another devastating aspect of abuse that silences victims, the knowledge that they have been betrayed by someone who was supposed to help. As a teenager, Rachael turned to Larry Nassar for the treatment of an injury. Reflecting on his actions, she said, my “own trust had been weaponised”, and my “request for help had been exploited.” (Harris, 2018) Psychologists refer to this as betrayal trauma, which describes the experience of being harmed by the very person you depend on for care or safety.
Betrayal Trauma is an abuse of power that causes enormous confusion for a person, especially as often grooming has occurred leading up to the abuse. In such cases, the brain adapts by protecting the relationship rather than the self. For a young person, the thought of losing that special bond they have with the person who has betrayed them can feel even more threatening than enduring the abuse. In Rachael’s situation, the medical support she relied on, along with the appearance of genuine care, may have reinforced her need to preserve the relationship, making her susceptible to ongoing abuse and making it challenging for her to voice her concerns. In this context, silence became the only way for her to survive the unthinkable.
It becomes clear, then, why for many survivors, silence once felt like the safest choice — both in the moment and in the years that followed. Yet, stories have a way of rising to the surface, and when they do, this can mark an important step in the healing process. Speaking out allows survivors to begin integrating traumatic experiences into their broader life narrative, reducing the burden of secrecy and supporting the gradual restoration of safety, agency, and coherence. When the time was right, Rachael found her voice and began the courageous work of bringing the truth into the light.
So many carry stories they’ve never shared. If that’s you, your voice matters. Your story deserves to be heard. For the rest of us, Rachael’s story reminds us: we may only get one chance to be a safe place. Choose to listen. Choose to believe.
Your story matters. Your voice deserves to be heard.
References:
Freyd, J. J. (1996). Betrayal Trauma: The Logic of Forgetting Childhood Abuse. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Harris, K. (2018, October 8). Time doesn’t heal sexual assault if victims are silenced. Christianity Today.
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