My nightmare legal battle to exclude men from my rape crisis group
Julie Bindel for The Telegraph
When Sarah Summers (not her real name) approached a rape crisis centre in her home city of Brighton in September 2021, she had hoped to find a women-only support group that would help her to address the trauma of sexual abuse that she suffered from the age of 12.
Survivorsâ Network, which receives funding from local councils and the Ministry of Justice, describes itself as a âfeminist organisationâ, albeit one that supports âsurvivors of all gendersâ.
Summers went on, however, to find herself refused support and painted as a bigot for objecting to the presence of a man in the room where she and other survivors were hoping to disclose details of sexual assault in a safe environment.
She eventually took legal action against Survivorsâ Network and, earlier this month, after four years, the case was settled. It has been agreed that there will, in future, be single-sex provision for female victims of sexual assault â a departure from the previous policy.
For Summers, the fact that Survivorsâ Network put so much effort and money into contesting her claim was extraordinary in itself.
âI never asked Survivorsâ Network to exclude male people from their existing womenâs groups,â she explains, speaking exclusively to The Telegraph, about the toll taken by her battle, under a pseudonym.
âI simply asked if they could run an additional space for biological women. I thought a rape crisis service would be sympathetic to the needs of women who have a trauma response to males. I felt it was a modest and reasonable ask.ââ
Childhood abuse
Summers, aged 44, works in financial services, and lives with her long-term partner and their two young children. As a child, Summers was groomed and sexually abused from the age of 12 by a man in his thirties. This abuse resulted in anxiety, panic attacks and self-harm.Â
Aged 14, Summers began a sexual ârelationshipâ with an older man, and by her late teens was self-medicating with recreational drugs to help cope with the trauma. In her early twenties, she was drugged and raped by a male friend.
This had a profound effect on her, resulting in memory loss and recurring flashbacks. âI didnât go to the police as the rape happened abroad which meant I didnât have the support of family or friends and the repercussions of reporting a friend in a foreign country felt too daunting.â
Summers met her long-term partner in 2011 and tried to put her past behind her, but was still regularly experiencing nightmares, insomnia and panic attacks. In 2019 her GP referred her to a male psychiatrist but Summers felt unable to disclose details of the abuse to him.
By then, Summers had lost all trust in men. âI would never be comfortable talking about my abuse with a male, even previous male partners. I can only talk about it with women, who I trust and who I have shared experiences with, or who are medically trained to provide support.â
She was prompted to go to Survivorsâ Network after discovering that due to a change of circumstances, her rapist, who had been in the periphery of her life since the assault, was now more likely to cross her path.
Survivorsâ Network, which is based in Brighton and is the only rape crisis centre in Sussex, was established in 1990 by a group of female survivors of childhood sexual abuse, for the sole purpose of providing services to other female survivors.
Perhaps ironically, Summers has always considered herself an ally of transgender people, and used to regard feminist organisations such as Womanâs Place UK, which campaigns for womenâs rights, as âtransphobicâ. But that was before she had found herself on the wrong side of trans activists.
New support group
When Summers first contacted Survivorsâ Network, in early 2021, having taken three years to build up her courage, it was the first time she had ever spoken about her experiences of being a rape and child sexual abuse survivor. She was aware that the service billed itself as being inclusive of trans women but didnât consider it an issue.
Later that year she was invited to attend a new support group for âself-identified womenâ, run by Survivorsâ Network and, not fully understanding the implications, decided to go along. During the telephone assessment, she was not asked about her traumatic experiences but rather about her gender identity, what pronouns she used and whether she identified with her âgender at birthâ.
Summers, having assumed it was a women-only group, was taken by surprise. She asked, âIt is all women, isnât it?â and remembers the support worker hesitating before confirming that it was.
At the first, all-female, meeting, the women discussed the importance of having a group free of men, so that they could speak openly about male violence. âI assumed from this meeting that the groups from then on would be single-sex, and that trans-identified men would be directed to a different one.â
Summers found the all-female space a âvery healingâ setting. âI didnât feel alone anymore â I had women with shared experiences I could talk to.â
Flashbacks
However, two months later, having missed a couple of meetings, she returned to discover that the group now included a trans woman. Her gut told her to walk out but, fearful of causing offence, she stayed.
That day the mood in the group felt entirely different, says Summers, âNone of the women made eye contact, they seemed unsure of themselves, and the atmosphere was tense.â
Asked by the facilitator how she was feeling about the rape, she responded that she was angry that the perpetrator had got away with it. âI noticed that the trans woman smirked at me as I spoke,â she says.
When the trans participant spoke, Summers recalls that hearing a male voice in that setting caused her to feel panic and nausea. She never returned to the group and sought help from her GP after experiencing increased anxiety, panic attacks and insomnia. Subsequently, the GP told her this was a PTSD response.
âI was having flashbacks to the childhood abuse when I was locked in a room by the perpetrator,â she tells me. âI felt trapped in that group, in a similar way to how I was trapped in that roomâ.
She was later told by other women in the group that the man had also been at the group the previous week, which had caused another woman to leave in tears, very distressed.
Two-year waiting list for counselling
Summers emailed Survivorsâ Network saying she didnât feel safe in a group that included a man. She asked for single-sex support, which was denied (there were groups available for both men and those who identified as trans women, but no female-only group had existed in the past).
Summers suggested practical solutions and referred to the Equality Act, which specifies circumstances in which men can be excluded from such a group. But all she was offered was individual counselling which came with a two-year waiting list.
By contrast, she says, âI heard the male in the group was offered immediate one-on-one counselling yet they blocked me ⌠both from accessing the service and on social media.â
Summers was so upset that in late 2021 she approached a newspaper to tell her story and disclose that no single-sex rape crisis therapy was available to women in Sussex.
In early 2022, Survivorsâ Network emailed Summers, accusing her of breaching the groupâs confidentiality by going to the press, despite her not revealing anyoneâs details. âI was told I was being removed from all the groupâs mailing lists.â
Legal challenge
She was angry and her experience had added to her trauma rather than helping it. She set up a crowdfunding page to raise the necessary fees and decided to launch a legal challenge.
âI never wanted to sue a rape crisis service and I certainly didnât want to cost them money,â Summers tells me. âBut it refused to provide a women-only peer support group, and this had major implications not just for me, but for all women and girls in Brighton and the surrounding area.âÂ
The Survivorsâ Networkâs trans-inclusive policy puts women at a disadvantage, says Summers. âIt is impossible for women who have been through the trauma of sexual violence to recover when men are present,â says Summers. âWe have been coerced and manipulated by our abusers, and there is no way we could talk openly about the male privilege and entitlement with them in the room, however they identify.â
The case was due to go to trial in September but, at the end of July, Summers reached an out-of-court agreement with Survivorsâ Network, which agreed to provide a group exclusively for biological women.
In a statement following the settlement, the charity said: âSurvivorsâ Network is proud to be providing a new peer support group for biological women and we are collaborating with [Summers] along with other women survivors about this additional space. We are grateful for the opportunity to learn and grow through this process and we remain dedicated to serving all survivors with compassion, integrity and respect.â
Private apology
Summers has been impressed with the new leadership, after several changes at the top, including the appointment of Bec Davison, a new co-chairman, last year. âI got a private apology and a commitment to put the past behind them so that felt OK,â she says.
But how much has been learnt? Summers is âabsolutely delighted by the outcomeâ â but does still have concerns. âSurvivorsâ Network is only offering women one single peer support group and thatâs not enough. Over the last four years Iâve come across hundreds of women who need single-sex support and who self-exclude from SN.
âA lot needs to be done to build bridges and regain the trust of women in the community. Survivorsâ Network have a big task ahead of them but they have made a really positive start by engaging with me and other women survivors.âÂ
It is impossible to know how many trans women seek or access supposedly women-only services, because prior to the Supreme Court ruling in April that provided clarity on the issue, many of these services would record such individuals as âwomenâ.
The implications of the Summers case is that Survivorsâ Network has now acknowledged the significance of biological sex in the context of sexual violence, not least for women who have been abused by men. Although the case was settled, rather than decided by a court, it might also give succour to any women who find themselves in a similar position, with other organisations.
âCoercive bulliesâ
Summers describes transgender activists who demand access to women-only spaces as âcoercive bulliesâ and says that she has been misrepresented throughout the process: âI have been accused of trying to take support away from transgender survivors and thatâs never been what itâs about.â
During the course of her legal challenge, trans activists discovered her real identity and âmy partner received hate mail at workâ, she says.
But, she adds, âI think the worst thing that happened was when they [Survivorsâ Network] blocked me, not just on social media, they said, you canât come to the group support anymore. Thatâs what made me go to the press because I just thought âyou canât just block a survivor you donât want to helpâ.
âThey did agree to unblock me and Iâd hoped we could make the joint announcement [of the settlement] together. Part of the settlement deal is they unblock me. But they just deleted their Twitter account.â
Summers is hugely inspired by Beiraâs Place in Edinburgh, set up in 2022 by JK Rowling to provide a women-only support service for survivors of sexual violence. âThis service model is what we need in Brighton,â says Summers.
In the meantime, her battle for single-sex rape crisis therapy is far from over; she plans to work alongside psychotherapists to organise therapeutic retreats for survivors.Â
âTaking this case has been a nightmare, but if it means no other woman or girl has to go through what I have, it has been worth every minute.â
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Emphases mine.
Trans activists hang onto the deliberate, pernicious and easily dismantled lie that the existence of single-sex spaces take away or completely deny trans people access to resources. In reality, every resource in the one rape center in this city was available to trans people, and women who wished for a single provision without the presence of men are the ones who were denied and stripped of this resource.
It took 4 years for this victim to have access to a therapeutic resource that wouldn't be compounding on her trauma, that wouldn't be putting her mental health at risk, that would be minimally accommodating to her needs and dignity. A denial championed and celebrated by trans activists who have the gall to claim on the same breath to be kind, to be good, to be pro-woman. All the while, trans people had full and considerate access.
I'm happy for her and I hope she finds relief and as much happiness as it may come, and I'm happy she managed to secure at least this meager precaution for the women in her community, but it's horrendous she had to, and even more so that it was the rape center itself, the people who should've helped her the most, who she had to fight to secure it.
That the trans community instigated it is no alarm and no surprise. They've been getting more and more explicit with how much they despise women, openly and gleefully rallying for extinguishing rape centers and shelters that provide critical care for female victims, the group most disproportionately affected by both physical and sexual violence.















