We made it through one of the hardest years many of us have ever encountered - 2020. And we did it together. We were reminded of the power of sisterhood and how at our lowest point, it’s the power of women who will pull us up.

As we kick off our first-ever Global 24-hour Step Forward Summit, we wanted to share an extract from Georgie Abay’s conversation with Australian of the Year and sexual abuse survivor and advocate Grace Tame - an extraordinary young woman who knows all about what it means to speak up and stand up for what's right. 

Trigger warning: Before reading this post, please be aware that it contains descriptions of childhood rape and sexual assault. 

While there’s likely not a single person in Australia – and now so many globally - who haven’t heard Grace’s story, it wasn’t always this way. Yes, her story had already been told by many people - journalists, commentators and even the maths teacher who groomed and molested her when she was just 15 – yet Grace had never been able to publicly speak. By law, she was silenced. 

The sexual-assault victim gag laws that existed in Tasmania, Victoria and the Northern Territory meant that Grace wasn’t allowed to tell her story – as the victim, she was prevented from ever speaking about her experience, even if she wanted to. 

Grace’s silenced sparked a fierce determination in her. She wanted to make real change. She wanted to give others the chance to speak up. Her case was the catalyst for the #letherspeak campaign.  In 2019, Grace along with 16 other survivors of the #letherspeak campaign, succeeded in overturning Tasmania's archaic gag law. She could speak. And so too, can other victims of sexual abuse. 

We hope today’s summit will help the ALLBRIGHT community and beyond to learn, inspire and be inspired by one another through a series of thought-provoking conversations. In this conversation, we are thrilled to welcome Grace, who is stepping forward for speaking up.  

Sign up for AllBright Digital and access the summit using the code ABWELCOME  

Grace Tame

Having just been awarded Australian of The Year, what does International Women's Day mean to you this year?

Well, considering what I was awarded Australian Of The Year for – which is my advocacy as a survivor and advocate for fellow survivors of child sexual abuse, which to me is a symbol of hope and progress in relation to how far we've come on that issue not just as a Tasmanian community but as a national community now – IWD makes me think of what we've got still to do in the future, because there's a lot of work to be done in this area. It's a time to celebrate and recognise women and all the progress that we have made as a community in terms of gender equality, but where we still have work to do.

The sexual-assault victim gag laws that existed in Tasmania, Victoria and the Northern Territory meant that you weren’t allowed to tell your story – as the victim, you were prevented from ever speaking about your experience, even if you wanted to. Your story has been told many times by many people, journalists, commentators and the maths teacher who groomed and molested you when you were just 15. Yet because of this gag law, you were silenced. Because of this, you helped launched the #letherspeak campaign and the campaign went global and attracted the support of celebrities and leaders of the #MeToo movement. What did it feel like not being able to control your own story? And not being able to speak up?

Abuse itself is characterised by disempowerment and a loss of control – both physically and emotionally. To have that reinforced at a structural level was the same abuse. It was retraumatising and it really compounded the lasting impacts of the trauma.

To have my voice back meant I was able to share my truth and that meant that I was able to reconnect with myself and others around me, because when you share your truth as human beings, you heal. Through talking about something, you're able to foster empathy and understanding. From that understanding, we can educate each other and we can learn how to move forward. So, that was when my healing journey could really start beginning.

You’ve spoken about how the discussion of child sexual abuse is uncomfortable, but nothing is more uncomfortable than the abuse itself. People need a greater understanding of how perpetrators are able to abuse. Perpetrators thrive on victim silence and community misconceptions of these crimes. What are some ways perpetrators will try and silence their victims?

The grooming is a really complicated process that has six main concurrent phases. The first being that they target someone who is already vulnerable or isolated, because much like a lion in the wild, there's a reason that predators are called predators because there are so many parallels between apex predators in the animal kingdom and perpetrators of sex crimes. By targeting a weak victim, it’s much easier to maintain control, rather than someone with more strength. That's why children are often victims, because of their pure innocence. Then after that, is the gaining the trust of that target by developing a false sort of friendship - lulling the target into a false sense of security and safety. Then the third one is filling a need, which is identifying a specific gap that the target is seeming to crave.

In my case, I did have a lot of support around me, but it was in the form of tough love. So, the teacher assumed the role of sympathiser and told me all the things that he thought I would want to hear. Then the fourth is isolating. So that's identifying where there are already tenuous relationships and driving wedges between the genuine supporters that a target has around them. The fifth one is the gradual sort of sexualisation, which happens very insidiously and subtly. You don't actually really notice it happening, so that when the sexual abuse is introduced, although it's shocking, it's not as shocking as it could be. Then the sixth phase is maintaining control – the striking of the balance between providing pain, but also providing relief and comfort. That's to condition you into questioning yourself first and foremost, but then being very confused and feeling guilty about ever questioning the abuser who has appeared or appears to be caring, let alone dobbing them in to somebody else. 

Silence really is effective in that it’s where the self-doubt starts, because when you doubt yourself, that's really all that is needed from the perpetrator - everything else flows on from there. With this self-doubt comes the lack of trust in your own judgment. Therefore, your lack of trust in other people's judgment, and you just get locked in this cognitive dissonance, which shames you into not wanting to speak because you have no confidence. That lack of confidence is shared by the collective, because we don't talk about it, because we don't have this understanding so we shy away from it. We don't know how to handle it. We don't know how to respond to it. Silence is weaponised in lots of ways and it affects all of us.

Before the abuse started, your parents had expressed concerns to the school about the amount of time your math teacher was spending alone with you unsupervised – and other teachers raised their concerns, but a report was never made to the police. My brother was taught by a paedophile and while my brother wasn’t abused, other children in his school were. Nothing was done despite complaints. How can schools and education systems not take this seriously? How are these monsters able to get into institutional settings in the first place?

That's a hard question to answer simply, but I will say this, the threat of predators is so great, that it is greater than the threat of policy and legislation. Predators manipulate institutions. They're impervious to guilt and shame and embarrassment. Often there are cases of individual members of staff actually standing up to predators, but the predators threaten them as well. The are bullies by nature. So, that's why it's all the more important that we do talk about this really openly and start to take the power away from them. 

You've said that you took it one step at a time and that your work normalising conversations around sexual assault is far from over. So what are some of the most momentous steps that you've taken in your journey so far?

The thing about trauma and recovering from any kind of trauma is that it's not a linear process. For every step forward, there's not just a step back. There's a step sideways and maybe around in circles, all of which are often taken very, very close to the edge. It's hard to say, but I think the most momentous steps for me would probably be more symbolic ones in the form of relationships that I've fostered with people – the positive, loving relationships that I've fostered. Those have been the most influential in bringing me towards the light and being able to re-engage with things that I had loved to do as a child that I was sort of taught to negatively associate with, through the abuse. Running for instance, I used to love to run, but the first time he raped me I was in my running gear and it was after the athletics carnival and I stopped running.

I hated it. That was a huge part of me that I thought that I had lost for a long time until a friend of mine re-introduced me to it a couple of years ago. Then last year, 10 years after the abuse – a powerful symbol – I won a marathon. Now it wasn't a very competitive marathon, but the fact that I did the marathon, and my mum was there at the finish line, was symbolic. When I was abused, I was lying on my back all the time. Then here I was running, putting one foot in front of the other. I did it in under three hours. But beyond that, the community atmosphere at the marathon was incredible. Whether or not I competed in it, to have everyone there supporting each other in this great human fete, that's not just a fete of physical struggle, it's a huge mental battle to do a marathon. So, to be able to re-establish my love of running was momentous.  

Grace Tame

I think the idea of taking things step-by-step can be applied to so many things in life, but the hard part is just getting started. Would you agree?

That's all we can do and it’s something that I lean into. I encourage people who are at a loss to say, "well, we don't need to know necessarily what you're aiming for or what it is that you're doing, but start something, start somewhere with a positive step because nothing is fixed." I'm not a survivor of child sexual abuse. That's not my definition. That's a part of a story that's really quite big and that goes for anybody's story or stories that they have. Lean into that inherent transience of life. Things are always changing and maybe if you start this journey, it doesn't have to be your only journey.

You might take a foot wrong, but that's okay. Over the last 11 years since I was abused, there were steps forward. I moved overseas, I was in a new environment, I didn't have the physical triggers around me, I made great friends, I dived into the study, I practiced yoga and I even became a yoga teacher. But at the same time I abused drugs, I dyed my hair, I cut myself, I got grungy, awful tattoos, and I found myself in violent relationships again. There are all these different things that are going on all at once, but that's the nature of life, it keeps moving. Much like cancer, it doesn't discriminate. It just happens. Instead of having this victim mindset of things happening to us, hold onto the hopeful knowledge that life just happens.

I just think of it as chapters, like different chapters in your life. Some of them you're going to completely want to escape and not read a page, but then there's going to be other chapters...

Yet they are just as vital, because without those negative experiences, you don't have perspective. You don't value the good stuff as much. It gives a wealth to the positivity that you actually wouldn't otherwise have. It makes the sweet stuff even sweeter. For example, I'm in a relationship now, an incredibly positive relationship, with the most beautiful man inside and out who could have ever existed. I'm eternally grateful. Even more so I think.

How did it feel to stand up and be awarded the Australian Of The Year 2021?

It didn't really feel like so much of an award for me. I was there the whole time as a representative of a community that has been marginalised and misunderstood for such a long time. I felt very proud to be standing on that stage in that capacity, but I guess I also do have to give myself a little bit of a pat on the back because if I was to think objectively and look at my story as if it wasn't mine, from 11 years ago to now in a flash, what a turn around. 

You were anorexic when the abuse began – Over 1 million Australians are living with an eating disorder. And less than a quarter of those receive treatment or support. What do you want to say to young women who are battling with an eating disorder?

I battle it every day and I want people who are suffering to know that you're not alone. A happy life is very much a possibility and eating disorders are very different for different people. A one size fits all sort of message isn't really appropriate just as a one size fits all recovery isn’t really appropriate. There's support out there and there are resources out there, but there are also people who are just like you out there. I'm one of them who fights this every day, but it's worth it for the love that you get to experience when you find people who understand.

I think a lot of it has to do with social conditioning. There are pressures on women and men to look a certain way and to adhere to a stereotypical accepted or even worshiped form of beauty, whatever that is. It's hard because it’s in the media, it's in pop culture, it's in how certain body types have glorified disproportionately over other body types in movies. It's becomes a subconscious unconscious programming that we have there. We compare ourselves to that, but one of the myths I think, or one of the things that I've realised that people misunderstand when it comes to my story is that the anorexia was a product of grooming that it came afterwards and that it was a coping mechanism – it was actually already there. That was one of the main weaknesses that actually drew the attention of this abuser. He'd been my teacher the year before when my anorexia was at its height and I'd actually been hospitalised on the verge of a heart attack year before the grooming started. When I relapsed the year later, he tried to visit me in the hospital. 

I want to finish by asking you, what are the biggest messages that you want to share?

My key messages are normalising the conversation. Keep talking with each other, keep listening, keep loving, with a view to learn and grow and listen genuinely without judgment or advice, but then also to extend that conversation to education. How can we take the insights provided by those with lived experience from the conversation and actually apply it to educating so that we can prevent it from happening in the first place? 

Also how can we look at ways we can actually reform structures in our society to better support survivors? Because currently gag laws aside, there are still so many examples of structures, of policies and of institutions that enable predatory behavior by protecting the rights of predators or by softening their crimes or by not providing adequate punishment for their crimes. It's using the education to inform the legislation. It's a linear step message process - from the conversation comes the education and from the education comes the understanding to inform the structural change and that will drive the rest. Beyond that, more general messages are just the ones of love and kindness and hope. Know that it's not your fault, we'll believe you, your truth is your power, lean into that. No one else can tell your story and you have just as much potential to create change as anybody else in the world.