Gisèle Pelicot: “I rebuilt myself from the rubble: it is possible to love again and be happy.”

BarcelonaGisèle Pelicot (Willingen, 1953) made a courageous decision. She insisted that the trial against her husband and the 50 other men who raped her be held in open court. For 10 years, she had been raped in her home after Mr. Pelicot systematically subjected her to a cocktail of drugs. Her body suffered the consequences of the rapes, and her brain the effects of the sleeping pills. She remembered nothing, but he had recorded everything on video, which became the key evidence in the trial. Her case made headlines around the world and gave rise to a new feminist slogan: "Shame must change sides." Her courageous decision led to changes in the French Penal Code, placing consent at the center of the issue. She is the living embodiment of the resilience and strength of a woman who knows she has survived horror. And she refuses to bow her head, for herself or for others. But she doesn't like to consider herself an icon, but rather someone who awakens consciences. She has visited Barcelona for to present his autobiography entitled A hymn in life (Now Books).

Her story has overturned the collective imagination of the rapist (in her case, many were "normal" men living among us), and it also brought visibility to rape within the context of intimate relationships and drug-facilitated sexual assault. She broke with stereotypes about victims of sexual violence (they are not only young women) and projects an image of dignity.

— Yes, it's true that I was able to oppose the closed-door trial, and that this freed women's voices. But it's also important to say that I wasn't the one who filed the complaint. The police came to me and brought me all the evidence. I was able to confront the 51 men who had raped me because I had all the evidence confirming the truth. Many women who want to report crimes don't have evidence. It's a difficult struggle for victims who suffer, who isolate themselves, and who don't dare to speak out. It's hard to face the police, to go to the station, and to acknowledge the shame we feel inside. And it's hard to believe you'll have the strength to see the process through to the end.

Their motto is "the shame must change sides"; it is society that has built this shame and made it fall on the victims.

— It's true that shame always falls on the victims. And that the accused often get off scot-free when it's one person's word against another's. I wanted to change those rules of the game. It wasn't easy facing lawyers who said I was an accomplice or that I consented, when it was clear I had no responsibility whatsoever. What we have to tell victims is that they are not guilty of anything, nor responsible for anything. Because we victims often ask ourselves, "Why were we put through all this? What did we do wrong?" And in reality, we didn't do anything wrong. The guilty ones are the rapists. I received thousands of letters from women who identified with my story, letters that echoed their own suffering. And every day there were more women at the courthouse door: they gave me incredible strength. We were all connected.

In the book, he speaks of his case as "a stark reflection of the domination and predation that still structure our world."

— I've spoken mainly about chemical submission because I was sedated for over ten years. We realized it was truly a tool of violence. But violence is also a tool of male domination. The trial was a small step on a path that isn't over yet. There's still a long way to go. Laws based on consent have been passed. But I think what needs to change most of all are mindsets. You can pass all the laws you want, but if we don't change mindsets, it will be difficult to live in harmony. I also want to say that we shouldn't lump all men together. These individuals came to my house fully conscious to rape an unconscious woman. And I think this corresponds to a very specific category of men.

Which category?

— Men who accessed the website coco.fr from their dining rooms, secretly, with a sense of omnipotence. They were convinced that their husbands could give their consent. What did it matter to them if their wives didn't? This speaks volumes about the behavior of these individuals.

How do you see the role of social media?

— We must be very careful with social media, because it's also a breeding ground for hate and anger. I personally don't want to be there. I know that many young people do use it. That's why we must be vigilant and careful.

You don't define yourself as a feminist activist, but you have achieved changes that will help many women.

— I'm 73 years old, and throughout my life, what's important to me has been raising a family. It's true that this trial has given women a voice. I consider myself a feminist in my own way, because I believe I've contributed a small part to the movement. But I think younger generations will be able to lead this fight very well.

Her daughter runs the No me duermas foundation, which fights against chemical subjugation.

— I'm very proud of what she's achieved. Chemical abuse is an issue that many people discovered through my story. I myself knew nothing about it. I didn't even know it existed in homes. At first, it was like a tree obscuring the forest. Then we realized it wasn't just a problem in France. It's a universal issue.

Now you have become a kind of icon.

— I don't consider myself an icon, or even a symbol. I think the word that best defines me is "awakener." Awakening consciousness. That defines me best. I know where I come from, I know who I am, and I'm still the same person. Every day I meet people who say "thank you" to me. There's so much kindness. And that helps me too. If it allows them to express themselves freely, I like meeting them.

And yet, you continue to champion life and love.

— I don't exist without love. I believe it's important to love and be loved. And this book is a message of hope. It shows that we can go through very difficult times in life. You can feel destroyed. I rebuilt myself from the rubble, and I'm living proof that it's possible to keep loving and be happy.

What was your repair process like? You call it "reconstruction".

— It takes time. I received help. And this must also be said to the victims: we cannot isolate ourselves. It is not possible to rebuild oneself alone. We must talk and regain our self-confidence. We must also be able to report abuse. I know it is not always easy, but that also helps. I had the support of psychologists and psychiatrists, my friends, my lawyers, and the Avignon victims' association. I never isolated myself.

She hasn't hidden her family's suffering either. A rape not only breaks the victim, but her entire social circle.

— Suffering doesn't always unite a family; it's an explosion that shatters everything. Today we've reconciled. My children and I are also on that path of healing. The book helped them understand me better. I don't easily share suffering or tears, and that's why they thought I wanted to distance myself from them. But it was really a way of protecting them.

He says he wants to go see Mr. Pelicot in jail.

— Yes. I intend to go see him, but I haven't decided when yet. During the trial, I couldn't speak directly to him because I had to address the presiding judge. But I feel the need to ask him why he put us through all this. Why he ruined our lives. I believe I have a right to his answers, looking him in the eye. That way, he'll see that I'm no longer a woman under chemical control.

What message would you like to send to women?

— A message of hope. A message of love, because hate and anger solve nothing. I know it's not always easy, but if you manage to achieve it, it's fantastic.