Kelly Favro: "This week marks 10 years since my assault."
In this raw and emotional post, Beyond The Verdict co-founder Kelly Favro reflects on the
10-year anniversary of her sexual assault and the aftermath.
In 2015, Kelly survived a harrowing two-hour sexual assault. After the trial, she became the first person in British Columbia to self-represent to have her publication ban removed and has been a tireless advocate for other survivors since. Canadian True Crime covered Kelly Favro's Story as a two-part podcast series in 2023. You can also read about her story here.
"September 1, 2025 marks 10 years since my assault. I don’t really know what to feel. All I know is that my body remembers even when my mind tries to move on. Last night the weight of my blankets on my ankles set off a physical reaction I could not control. I thought I was being tied up again. Flashbacks like that do not care how many years have passed. Trauma does not end with a trial or a verdict.
For years I have been pushing these feelings down. I have been straight up not acknowledging them because I was so hyper focused on advocacy. I did that intentionally so I would not have to deal with these emotions.
I escaped with drugs and alcohol for the first five years. That was my way of surviving and keeping the pain at bay. Then I got pregnant and had to face reality, and I focused on the appeal, sober, because it was September 2020. After that I swapped my "escape" for advocacy work. I buried the feelings and channeled everything into fighting for change instead of facing my trauma head on.
My work challenging the pub ban I didn't know that was on my name, speaking out at federal committees studying the effects of silencing victims in Safe Sport, and advocating for survivors all came from the pain and injustice I lived. My advocacy is rooted in the trauma I survived.
My perp got 18 months of house arrest and a $100 fine. That was his accountability. Mine has been 5 years of addiction, job loss, and other poor life choices that could have had serious consequences, and 10 years of avoiding my trauma and diving head first into making sure no one has to experience what I did in court ever again. When I went public, three other women reached out to me saying my perp did the same thing to them. Justice for me did not stop the harm he caused others despite me "winning."
I never sued. At the time I thought winning the criminal trial was enough. It was never about money and it still isn’t. What I wanted was justice. To know he was held responsible. But he wasn’t. 18m house arrest and $100 in fines compared to my life sentence is sweet loads of fuck all. That’s not even close to Justice. He had provincial-covered sex offender and CBT therapy. Im out of pocket when I max out my benefits three months into the year.
The province, at the time, covered 10 sessions for me. And I used most of those to help me mentally prepare for the trial. I was left on my own to figure it out after. No guidance. No "pointed in the right direction." Just trauma.
The aftermath of assault is a burden survivors carry every day. It lingers in memory, in our bodies, and in the decisions we make to survive and rebuild. It drives some of us to advocacy, to fighting laws, to challenging the ways courts see survivors. For others, the path is much more dark. But both still leaves scars both seen and unseen.
If you have ever wondered what it looks like after the trial and after the verdict, this is it. Ten years later, I am still just surviving. While I can fight, speak, and try to make change, survival is not the same as healing. And it should not have to be this hard.
So this week, I'm going to gently acknowledge what happened to me over the last 10 years. I'm going to hug my kids be thankful that I made it out alive."