Say My Name, Bitch

The press, when I speak to them, are often taken aback by the fact that I am willing, as a rape victim, to go on the record and allow my name to be published. They look at me like I’m crazy.

I have been warned by the police that websites like mine can draw attention from unwanted parties.

My phone number, address, email, and full name are on many legal documents.

So why am I that willing to allow my information to be out there? There are a few reasons.

I am not ashamed of this. This wasn’t my doing. Why should I feel any shame or guilt for someone else’s actions? I’m proud of what I am doing. I’m proud of the fact that I am speaking out and I’m not falling into what rape victims are “supposed” to do. That’s how we get ignored and silenced.

I can’t speak for everyone, but I wonder how much externally imposed shame and guilt keep women silent. If more of us went on the record and said, “Yes, it’s me. I was there. This is what actually happened, and I’m not afraid to say it,” we might be in a better place.

Everyone, from the start, talks about your privacy and the sensitive nature of the information. Like it is required to be a secret. Like you can’t talk about it openly.

Fuck you. I will speak of it this openly because we need to have a goddamn discussion in this country about this. We need to talk about it. If we’re too busy convincing victims they need to be anonymous and ashamed, when do we get the opportunity to openly and freely discuss the goddamn issue of men raping us and governments that protect them?

If I hadn’t spoken out and made all of my allegations, warts and all, available, that man would still be an Assistant Attorney General. Does that bother you? Because it fucking bothers me.

I’m not doing this for attention, as Dave said. I’m doing this because it’s a problem. He is dangerous, and frankly, I want people to know that.

I have records—verified, official public records from the government. And guess what? They have my name on them. Not his.

Also, why am I doing this? I need a fucking attorney. Dave basically pushed me into a nervous breakdown to get me to dismiss the case because he knows he can’t win. So he tormented me. I need to sue Nevada, but lesson learned already on that. I can’t find an attorney to take the case because of limits on what you can sue for in Nevada. It’s $200,000, and we have to get over sovereign immunity. Which, Dave, how did they determine you didn’t have sovereign immunity in EB-5? And no lawyer wants to sue the AG. That ain’t good for their career.

So my name is Kathleen Light, née Mitchell, and I was raped on video by some guy who shall remain nameless because apparently his privacy is of more concern than mine. But his job title? That will always belong to the public. Deputy Insurance Commissioner for Consumer Affairs for the State of Nevada 2017-2024.