Callisto’s Crisis: A Matched Survivor Speaks Out
*Content Warning: This contains discussion of sexual assault.
Few people have heard directly from survivors who have matched using Callisto’s revolutionary and encrypted Matching System.
And this is by design.
However, when we made the painful announcement last week that Callisto would likely have to close its doors due to unexpected funding issues, a survivor who matched within the system reached out and asked if we would share her experience, in hopes it would help #SaveCallisto.
While we were initially hesitant, we realized that our mission is to empower survivors - no matter how that looks to them.
As a result, we are sharing her statement (unedited) below.
My name is —------ and I’m a current undergraduate student at a college in the northeast. I was immensely excited to start my second year as a Callisto Ambassador this fall semester. I’ve loved my time working with Callisto: it’s granted me the opportunity to collaborate with student government in ways I never thought possible, support important dialogues with students from multiple home schools, and interact with the student body on my campus in a way that feels genuinely impactful.
When I heard the news that Callisto was facing financial difficulties so severe it might result in Callisto’s services halting entirely, I was devastated. That devastation was not just because I care deeply about campus wellbeing and the promotion of Title IX rights, but because I have personally used and benefited from the services Callisto offers.
On an evening in February 2022, I made a mistake familiar to most freshman college students: I got far too drunk at a party. For the first time in my life, I found myself feeling nauseous, exhausted, and borderline unconscious. At this point I decided to make the “responsible” choice, the one that gets drilled into young women from a very young age: I asked my partner to take me home safely. I climbed into bed and passed out almost immediately.
When I woke up the next morning, my shirt was on backwards. I was missing my pants. I was covered in marks and bruises I had no memory of receiving. My sleeping partner’s arm was draped over me. I examined my body in the shower as dread grew heavy in my gut.
It was undeniable. Something had happened to me.
In the months that followed, I really struggled with what to do. My partner apologized, promised it was a mistake, and tried to convince me that I was overreacting. I ended the relationship, but I still struggled with feelings of guilt, self-reproach, and shame. I found that I had changed as a person. I could no longer attend college parties with my friends without experiencing panic attacks, after which I’d return to the same dorm room and twin XL mattress where the assault had occurred. I felt isolated, fragile, and afraid. I spent months carrying this horrible, creeping fear that I would never truly know what happened that night.
I later learned that those feelings are commonly experienced by victims of sexual assault. But at the time, I just felt incredibly alone. I knew filing a report through the police or Title IX was the “right” thing to do, but the idea paralyzed me. Some part of me still believed my perpetrator’s claims that the whole thing was a drunken mistake.
I kept coming back to one thought: if there was any chance my perpetrator had harmed (or would harm) other people, I would report them in a heartbeat.
Nearly two years later, Callisto Vault rolled out nationwide and became available for my institution. I figured I should do my due diligence, and uploaded information about my perpetrator into the vault. I wasn't expecting anything out of it. Instead, I had a match within months.
Since that original match, I’ve learned about multiple other students on my campus who were harmed by the same perpetrator. Not a single one of us knew the behavior was serial. We had all been fed the same lies— that we were being overdramatic, the behavior was a mistake, the perpetrator felt so, so terrible over what happened, and it would never happen again.
We had another trend in common. We each wanted to report, but couldn't do it alone.
Thanks to Callisto, we weren't.
Our Title IX case is currently ongoing. Callisto has provided information, mental health support, and legal assistance to help get us there. The attorney provided to me not only offered above-and-beyond legal aid, but gave much-needed emotional support throughout the process of filing my Title IX claim. I am hopeful for the outcome of our case, but above all else, I am infinitely grateful for the services and support Callisto has provided throughout the process. I no longer recognize in myself the person that I was two years ago, who felt isolated, afraid, and irreparably hurt. These days, I find support in not only those I love, but in former strangers who share my story.
Together, we are not only able to pursue justice, but have also found closure through solidarity. So much of that healing could not have happened without Callisto.
I may not have a neat conclusion to my case, but what I can offer is this: I firmly believe that students who have experienced sexual violence on their college campuses would benefit radically from the same support I was given. The concept of losing that support is terrifying.
Reporting a sexual assault, on and off campus, is a terrifying and isolating experience. It’s also an experience that puts you in a system that is not designed to care for survivors at all. Title IX offices seek to close cases as rapidly as possible, and prioritize simplicity over the people harmed. Police officers often disregard and mistreat survivors who report. Even when the offices in charge of holding perpetrators accountable do everything right, it still places survivors in a position where they must relive their trauma, and present their own bodies, stories, and relationships as evidence.
Callisto demands none of the above. Callisto provided me with the unconditional, unwavering, above-and-beyond support that I needed to stay afloat and even consider pursuing justice.
To each person in my case, the realization that we were part of a trend of serial, violent behavior was earth-shattering. Statistically, however, it’s not even close to being an anomaly. As Callisto presents on their website, 90% of campus assaults are committed by serial perpetrators. On average, those serial offenders will harm six students during their time on campus. If Callisto had not given us the tools we needed to identify the serial behavior in this case, I can only imagine that our perpetrator would have gone on to harm even more people.
Thanks to Callisto, fewer students on my campus were reduced to the same statistic. Without Callisto, I fear for the safety and well-being of other students nationwide. I fear for the hundreds of students who will be stuck in the same trap of paralysis and isolation as I was. I fear for the students who will feel terrified on their own campuses. As someone who knows personally the value Callisto can bring into the life of a student survivor, I ask you: please, help us save Callisto.
If you can donate, donate. If you can share the stories of myself and others who believe deeply in Callisto’s mission, please do so.
Callisto has the ability to save lives- but only if it exists.
Together, let’s keep it that way.