I was a victim of stranger rape in April 2008. I was visiting Belfast from London on a work trip and decided to go for a solo hike on my last day. I was approached by a young man who proceeded to follow me. When we reached somewhere really remote, he suddenly got very violent and attacked me. I tried to fight him off, but he was choking me and I couldn’t breathe. I realised I might die so I made a decision that my best chance of surviving was to stop putting up a fight. That’s when the sexual assault happened.It changed my life in so many ways. For a long time after, I suffered with PTSD, anxiety and depression. I was a 29-year-old capable film producer but suddenly I couldn’t function, often unable to leave my home. I didn’t feel shame about what happened to me – I knew I didn’t do anything wrong – but I felt shame at what I’d been reduced to.I never made a conscious decision to waive my right to anonymity – it was something that I decided on gradually over the next few years. Recently, more women have chosen to waive their rights to anonymity in sexual assault cases in what is being termed “the Pelicot effect”, after French rape survivor Gisele Pelicot did the same in 2024. Last week, Laëtitia R, a mother of four in France whose ex-partner is on trial over charges of raping and torturing her for seven years, as well as forcing her into prostitution, waived her right to a closed-door trial just like Gisele did.Winnie Li, pictured here on a hike, says that waiving anonymity is not an easy choice (Winnie Li)In the end, my case never went to trial because the man who raped me pleaded guilty on the day it began. But from the very beginning, my case was all over the local news in Northern Ireland. On the day of the attack, after the police had given me a forensic exam – which was absolute hell – they asked for my permission to do a callout to see if any members of the public had seen my perpetrator. With my consent, descriptions of both me and him were put out on the news waves. My name wasn’t out there then, but it framed my whole experience as a rape survivor in that what happened to me was out there in the public world from the very start. When I was back in London days later, I Googled “rape West Belfast” and my story was all over the news. It felt so weird. I’m Chinese-American but was either described as a Chinese student (I wasn’t) or an American tourist (I wasn’t exactly that either). I heard a chat show where my rape was discussed, and someone said: “That Chinese girl’s life is ruined.” It was shocking to hear, and it made me want to speak out to say my life wasn’t ruined. As much as that statement may have come from empathy, it was damaging to put it out there. I felt so strongly about it that I ended up writing an anonymous article for The Belfast Telegraph later that year about my experience as a survivor of rape and the hypocrisy of it being used as a media talking point. I wanted to share my thoughts but I didn’t want my name associated with any of it.It wasn’t until 2011 that I went public and fully waived my right to anonymity. I did it through my first published essay in an anthology of women’s stories, where I’d written about my rape and the aftermath. It was my story, and it was tied up with both a sense of personal achievement in being a published writer, and in how I was recovering. It was picked up in the press, and my name started to get out there.I like to think it won’t overshadow me being a novelist or professor – but I know it will always be there. People said: ‘You won’t let this define you.’ I haven’t, but professionally, it kind of hasBBC Northern Ireland asked me to do a live radio interview. I was terrified, but by this point – three years on – I felt I’d put enough of my life back together to talk about it. I wanted people to know how it really felt to go through this entire thing, which is something you never think will happen to you. The aftermath is entirely different to what you expect it to be. I had no idea how fundamentally my life would be changed by this one person doing this to me one afternoon. Over the years, I’ve done many more interviews on national TV and radio, as well as giving a TEDx London talk – “Reframing the way we think about sexual violence” – and publishing my award-winning novel Dark Chapter, a fictionalised account of what I went through. I’m now described as an activist and that desire to change things is largely why I spoke out publicly about being raped.I saw the lack of understanding the public has on this issue and felt I had a valid opinion and could contribute something to the conversation. There’s always been this educational intention in terms of me speaking to the press, which I also see with Gisele Pelicot, who spoke out this week about the shocking decision for a British judge to spare three teenage boys from custodial sentences after they raped two teenage girls. Li reading from her novel ‘Dark Chapter’ – a fictionalised account of her experiences (Winnie Li)I can see why her bravery in speaking out is inspiring more women to waive their rights to anonymity. What happened to Gisele – being raped and drugged by her husband and dozens of other men for almost a decade – was terrible, and her being so open about it shows women that if she’s been through something so horrific and isn’t ashamed, maybe we shouldn’t be as well. The fact she’s an older woman is also impactful. The media tends to prefer reporting on younger women, so it’s been powerful to see an older woman having that much of a spotlight. There was a similar effect in 2017 with #MeToo, with more women sharing their stories. The more we realise how common this lived experience is, the less people feel shame about what they’ve been through. But I would never say that waiving your right to anonymity should be the expectation. The fact [Gisele Pelicot] is an older woman is also impactful. The media tends to prefer reporting on younger women, so it’s been powerful to see an older woman having that much of a spotlightSome women do find it liberating to no longer have to hide and pretend this hasn’t happened to them. But it’s completely understandable that women wouldn’t want their experience of sexual assault to be out in the world. There are also real fears that it can affect their professional lives, especially in a traditional male field like finance. The shame that still lingers around being identified as a rape victim is something you might not want to be associated with. Li’s TEDx talk on reframing the way society thinks about sexual assault (Winnie Li)I’ll never be able to erase the fact that people can google me and instantly see my story. I have a six-year-old son now and at some point he’ll realise this about me. It’s a decision you can’t reverse. This is maybe one reason women are hesitant for perfectly understandable reasons. Women are capable of doing many other things, but being known as a victim of a sexual assault might overshadow all of that. The biggest accomplishment for me was recovering. I like to think it won’t overshadow me being a novelist or professor – but I know it will always be there. People said: ‘You won’t let this define you.’ I haven’t, but professionally, it kind of has.Still, I don’t regret waiving my anonymity. I know the impact my work has had on other people and how women have responded. Every time I talk about my story, there’s always at least one other person in the room who comes up to me to say: “It happened to me too”. I’ve even had people I knew for years opening up about their experiences of sexual assault, which is something that only happens when you share your own story. I’d never expect anyone to “out” themselves as a survivor but when you do, you do gain a realisation and shared understanding that you’re not alone. For me, that’s made it worthwhile. As told to Radhika Sanghani Winnie Li is an activist and author of three books on gendered violence, including ‘What We Left Unsaid’ (2025) and ‘Dark Chapter’ (2017)Rape Crisis offers support for those affected by rape and sexual abuse. You can call them on 0808 802 9999 in England and Wales, 0808 801 0302 in Scotland, and 0800 0246 991 in Northern Ireland, or visit their website at www.rapecrisis.org.uk. If you are in the US, you can call Rainn on 800-656-HOPE (4673)