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Survivors of childhood sexual abuse don’t follow a timetable. Some tell someone soon after the abuse occurs. Others may need years or even decades before they’re able to talk about what happened. Fear, shame, grooming, confusion and the power an abuser held over them can all affect when — or whether — a survivor feels ready to speak.
That reality is at the center of a recent Michigan Advance commentary by Megan Bonanni and Erin Blayer.
Although Bonanni and Blayer focus primarily on Michigan law, their message reaches far beyond one state: survivors should have the opportunity to decide for themselves when they’re ready to tell their story or seek accountability.
There’s No “Right” Time to Tell Someone
Blayer writes from personal experience.
She is a survivor of Larry Nassar’s sexual abuse. Nassar, a former USA Gymnastics and Michigan State University doctor, was convicted after hundreds of women and girls accused him of sexually abusing them under the guise of medical treatment. Blayer was among the survivors who eventually spoke about what happened to them, and she addressed Nassar directly during his sentencing. (Nassar is incarcerated. He was stabbed multiple times by another inmate in a Florida federal prison in July 2023.)
Blayer describes speaking publicly and participating in the legal process as an important part of her own healing.
But she doesn’t suggest that every survivor needs to do the same.
Sharing your story can mean speaking in court, reporting abuse to authorities, telling a family member, confiding in a counselor, joining a survivor community or simply telling one trusted person for the first time.
For some people, speaking publicly may feel empowering. For others, privacy may be just as important.
There isn’t one correct way to respond to sexual abuse.
Why Survivors Sometimes Wait Decades
Bonanni and Blayer point to something researchers, advocates and survivors have discussed for years: delayed disclosure is common in childhood sexual abuse.
A child may not fully understand that what happened was abuse.
An abuser may have groomed the child into believing the behavior was normal or convinced them they would be blamed if they told anyone.
Survivors may also fear losing their family, community, school, church, team or other important relationships.
Those pressures can become even stronger when the alleged abuser is a trusted adult or when an institution has significant authority over the survivor.
As adults, survivors may begin interpreting childhood experiences differently. Therapy, parenthood, hearing another survivor’s story or learning that other people experienced similar abuse can sometimes bring a new understanding of events that happened long ago.
That helps explain why allegations involving schools, athletic programs, religious organizations and residential facilities frequently emerge many years after the alleged abuse occurred.
One Survivor’s Story Can Help Another Person Speak
Bonanni and Blayer point to recent developments involving the Interlochen Center for the Arts and former University of Michigan hockey players as examples of survivors describing alleged abuse from decades earlier.
These cases also demonstrate another important part of sharing survivor stories.
Sometimes one person speaking makes it easier for someone else to recognize or talk about what happened to them.
That doesn’t mean survivors have an obligation to come forward; they do not.
But when someone chooses to speak, their story can challenge the isolation that sexual abuse often creates. Someone reading about another survivor’s experience may realize for the first time that This happened to someone else, too. Or, maybe what happened to me really was abuse.
That recognition can be powerful even if the person never files a lawsuit or speaks publicly.
When the Law Moves Faster Than Survivors Do
Bonanni and Blayer’s commentary focuses heavily on another problem: the law sometimes imposes deadlines that don’t reflect how long disclosure can take.
Every state has its own statute of limitations governing how long survivors may have to bring certain civil sexual abuse claims.
Some states have expanded those deadlines or created temporary revival windows allowing previously expired claims to move forward.
The co-authors write that Michigan lawmakers are considering a Justice for Survivors legislative package that would extend the state’s civil statute of limitations for certain sexual abuse claims and create a temporary window for some older claims.
The details are specific to Michigan, but the larger debate is national.
If a survivor needs decades before they’re ready to confront what happened, should a legal deadline that expired years earlier automatically prevent them from ever asking a court to hear their case?
States across the country have answered that question differently.
Sharing Your Story Is Your Decision
Perhaps the most important point in Bonanni and Blayer’s commentary has little to do with legislation.
Survivors should have choices.
Seeking justice through a civil lawsuit may be meaningful for one person. Reporting abuse to police may matter to another. Someone else may choose counseling, survivor support groups or private conversations with people they trust.
And some survivors may not be ready to talk at all.
Sharing your story doesn’t have to mean telling the world.
It can begin with telling one person.
And deciding whether, when and how to do that belongs to the survivor.