What Happened to Me? Rape, Sexual Abuse, Molestation, or Assault

By: Dr. Ethan Levine

As survivors, we may find healing through naming our experiences. It can be liberating to say, even just to ourselves, that “I am a survivor of sexual assault” or “I experienced sexual molestation as a child” or “I was raped by someone I knew.” Yet language for sexual abuse can be overwhelming and messy. We may struggle to find words that feel right, and the same words may not feel right all the time. We may share our stories with friends or therapists or police, only to find that they disagree with us about what happened. It’s hard to know how much power we have to name our own experiences, and how much of that power is reserved for other people and institutions. 

Searching for the Right Words to Describe Sexual Abuse

At seventeen, I asked my therapist whether I had been raped.

I told her about an experience that, however traumatic, didn’t line up with what I had been taught to think of as a “typical rape.” None of the stereotypes — misperceptions I would later be trained to recognize as “rape myths” — seemed to apply. The person who harmed me was a supposed friend, not a stranger. They had behaved calmly and, in between moments of protesting against or outright violating my boundaries, had occasionally asked for consent and even listened to me. They acted as if what happened between us was consensual. For my part, I wasn’t sure whether I had acted the way that a survivor would (or should). I didn’t understand that freezing was possible, and in fact common, among survivors. I didn’t understand that my very first refusal should have ended that encounter, and instead wondered whether I had simply not been clear enough. And the harms I had experienced could not have resulted in pregnancy, even though one of us was male-assigned and one female-assigned at birth.

My therapist asked me what I thought. I didn’t know what to tell her.

Desperate for something more concrete, I left our session and went searching through criminal laws. Back then in 2002, New York state restricted the category of “rape” to penile-vaginal penetration — in other words, the kind of sexual violence that could result in pregnancy. I finally had my answer, and it was “no.”  

And then, not even a year later, I moved to Massachusetts for college and began volunteering with a local rape crisis center. Our first session included an overview of state laws. I learned that rape was classified there as nonconsensual penetration of the mouth, anus, or vagina by any body part or object. I had another answer now, and it was “yes.” New York has since codified a similar definition. So if I had been seventeen this year, I would have found myself a legally-qualified rape survivor right from the beginning.

I’m not sure how many of us turn to the law to understand our stories. But I am sure that this question, how do I name what happened to me, is a struggle for many survivors. 

Words that Describe Different Experiences of Sexual Abuse

Here are some explanations of different words or phrases that describe sexual abuse, so you can decide what language works best for you.

What is rape?

Broadly speaking, rape involves nonconsensual sexual penetration. However, like many forms of harm, rape lacks a universal definition. And for survivors, questions such as was I raped may have different answers depending on the context. 

When it comes to providing services, organizations with “rape” in their name — what we typically refer to as rape crisis centers or sexual assault centers — are open to anyone who has survived some form of sexual harm. In fact, access is broader than that. People who are supporting survivors are welcome to reach out. People who are worried about the possibility of experiencing sexual harm (or of their loved ones experiencing sexual harm), struggling with stories of sexual violence that they’ve encountered in the media, or who are learning about rape culture and need support in navigating that reality, are welcome to reach out. 

For those interested in pursuing civil or criminal legal remedies, the answer to was I raped may depend on where you live. I conducted a study on this in 2018, and found a considerable range of approaches. States with the broadest definitions define rape as the nonconsensual penetration of the mouth, anus, or vagina by any body part or object — as New York does now. Within that framework, some states allow for the possibility that either individual might be the harmdoer, whereas others specify that the person penetrating must be the offender and the person being penetrated must be the victim/survivor. Some states take a narrow, gender-specific approach. 

Georgia, for example, still defines rape as circumstances in which a male offender “has carnal knowledge of a female forcibly and against her will.” Other forms of violence involving sexual penetration, such as oral and anal assault, are addressed in different statutes. Many states do not have a rape statute at all, and use language to describe criminal sexual violence involving nonconsensual penetration. For example, New Jersey and Illinois use the language of “Sexual Assault,” and Michigan laws refer to “Criminal Sexual Conduct.” Finally, states disagree regarding what “nonconsensual” means. Some rape statutes require physical force or threats of force, whereas others include circumstances such as a survivor being asleep or unconscious, involuntary intoxication (when a harmdoer gives a survivor alcohol or other drugs without their permission), voluntary intoxication, or a survivor simply refusing to consent.

What is sexual assault?

Similar to rape, the definition of sexual assault depends on context. Many activists, professionals who serve trauma survivors, and researchers use “sexual assault” as a sort of catch-all term for any forms of harm involving sexual contact. These folks might distinguish among different types of sexual assault, such as rape (nonconsensual sexual penetration), attempted rape, and nonconsensual sexual contact that does not involve penetration. 

Some activists, antiviolence professionals, and researchers consider rape to be in its own category as the most “severe” form of sexual violence, and use sexual assault to describe other forms of harm. Within this framework, examples of sexual assault would include experiences such as being forced or coerced to touch a harmdoer’s genitals, being touched in a sexual way without consent, and any other sexual contact without penetration when someone is unable to give consent (such as when someone is asleep or incapacitated due to alcohol or other substances). 

Sexual assault is also a legal term. States that take this approach typically have multiple sexual assault statutes, each specifying a different type of harm. For example, there might be one statute addressing nonconsensual sexual penetration and another addressing nonconsensual contact without penetration.

What is sexual molestation?

Many survivors use the language of molestation to describe their experiences. The most commonly used definition of molested involves inappropriate sexual behavior towards children. In criminal law, molestation statutes often specify young children — for example, children under 12 years old — who are legally unable to give consent. Examples of molestation include touching a child’s genitals, breasts, or buttocks; forcing a child to touch a harmdoer’s genitals; and sexually abusive behaviors that do not necessarily involve physical contact such as when a harmdoer exposes themselves to a child or takes pornographic photos or videos of a child.  

Criminal laws, research, and advocacy materials often refer specifically to “child molestation.” However, there is no counterpart concept of “adult molestation.”  Unlike rape, sexual assault, and sexual abuse, which can happen to people of any age, molestation is understood specifically as a form of harm to minors.

As with all language to describe sexual harms, “molestation” resonates with some — but not all — survivors and allies. I once heard from an advocate who avoided this term altogether due to its original definition, which means simply to “annoy” or “bother.” The advocate felt concerned that, given this foundation, the concept of molestation diminished survivors’ experiences. Some people address this issue by referring specifically to “sexual molestation.”

What is sexual abuse?

We might think of sexual abuse as an umbrella term for everything I’ve discussed so far, along with all of the forms of sexual harm that I haven’t addressed yet. In my experience as an advocate, “sexual abuse” has been used as an umbrella term for all sexual harms. Examples of sexual abuse include nonconsensual sexual contact, regardless of whether that contact qualifies as rape or sexual assault or molestation; as well as noncontact forms of harm such as when a harmdoer exposes themselves to someone without consent, takes pornographic pictures or video without consent, or exposes someone to sexually explicit materials without their consent.

Sexual abuse can also include any attempt to control someone’s sexuality, or to use sexuality as a tactic of control. For example, a harmdoer might pressure a survivor to identify with a certain sexuality (and not with others), or to conform to or reject the norms of different heterosexual or queer communities. This has come up in my own life, both as a survivor of grooming in my extended family and when I worked as an advocate with survivors of domestic violence. 

Some people — and some criminal statutes — specifically associate sexual abuse with children. However, sexual abuse can happen to anyone. The key difference between the sexual abuse of children and sexual abuse of adults concerns consent: children below the age of consent are unable to consent to any form of sexual contact, whereas adults are able to give consent. This means that adult sexual abuse must involve a violation of consent. For example, a survivor might indicate verbally or nonverbally that they do not consent to sexual contact or to have sexually explicit photos taken. A harmdoer might violate consent through force, through threatening a survivor’s safety or their loved one’s safety, or through threatening to harm their careers or relationships or reputation. A harmdoer might sexually abuse an adult while they are unable to give consent, due to being asleep or intoxicated.  

How do I name what happened to me after sexual abuse?

There is no universal way to describe our experiences. Below I have named a number of common challenges survivors have encountered when claiming language to describe their sexual abuse experiences. In italics, I have also shared my own perspective

We may not be consistent in our own naming, even to ourselves. 

There are days when it feels essential to figure out exactly how many times I have been raped, and exactly how many times I have experienced something that might be better described as a “lesser” form of sexual violence. I find myself fixating on the details of my actions and the actions of people who have harmed me, desperate to know whether each experience qualifies or fails to qualify as rape. There are days when the answers feel intuitive and simple. Then there are days when I let go of these questions altogether. That last approach has been healthiest for me lately, but for many years I felt sure that I needed a concrete and quantifiable understanding of my victimization experience(s).

We may have language imposed on us by people in our communities, including loved ones.

Disclosure can be unpredictable. I am fortunate in that friends and relatives have sometimes empowered me to share my experiences on my own terms. I have also had people tell me that I can’t possibly have the right to use language like rape or sexual assault, because (in their minds) I didn’t behave the way that a “real” survivor would under the same circumstances, or because (in their minds) the people who harmed me didn’t behave like “real” rapists. I have also had people tell me that I should be more direct in using those same words, and wonder why I sometimes seemed to dance around them.

We may have language imposed upon us by systems, such as courts and schools, that recast messy and complex human experiences into discrete categories.

Personally, I have never wanted to engage with the criminal legal system as a survivor - yet I still found myself lost and invalidated as a high school student, when I learned that New York State’s (now outdated) definition of rape excluded my experience. For those of us who are interested in pursuing criminal legal remedies, the stakes go beyond personal validation. We cannot hope for police or prosecutorial support if our experiences differ from sex offenses as they are defined in legislation. Similarly, students hoping to pursue administrative remedies within their schools, such as Title IX hearings, must be prepared to demonstrate that their experiences align with school and state policy definitions of sexual misconduct. 

We may have language imposed upon us by researchers.

Although many (most) survivors may never interact directly with researchers who study sexual violence, these professionals have an important role in shaping public understandings, guiding legislators and funding agencies, and evaluating prevention and response efforts. In doing that work, researchers often have to make decisions about who does and does not count as a survivor. Researchers may consider some communities and neglect others. This can have an impact on available knowledge about the scope of sexual violence, what laws are proposed and passed, what programs are funded, and more.

We may have language imposed upon us by advocates and other care providers.

Advocates, healthcare providers, and other professionals may categorize our experiences when we share our stories. Sometimes this never reaches us - they may simply mark us down as having experienced “rape” or “sexual assault” or something else in their records. Sometimes it matters a great deal, as we may be screened into or out of services based on how practitioners define our experiences.

I don’t believe that definitions are meaningless. They matter. But that doesn’t make them universal or stable. Your experience may qualify as rape in one official context, but not in another. You may have to self-identify differently in different contexts, such as in conversation with police or rape crisis center staff. Your own sense of what you’ve been through may change. None of this makes you or your story any less important. You have the power to decide for yourself what language suits you and your story best, then to change your mind as often as you'd like.

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Dr. Ethan Levine

Ethan is a sociologist, advocate, and award winning speaker on interpersonal violence and lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and other sexual and gender minority (LGBTQ+) issues. He is also the author of, Rape by the Numbers: Producing and Contesting Scientific Knowledge about Sexual Violence. Dr. Levine's background in teaching and research informs and complements his antiviolence advocacy. He has taught undergraduate and graduate courses in sociology, gender and sexuality studies, and criminal justice for more than 10 years. He received a PhD in sociology and graduate certificate in Gender, Sexuality, and Women's Studies from Temple University in 2018.