Amanda Lindhout shows courage,

When Canadian journalist Amanda Lindhout was released in 2009, after being kidnapped and held captive in wartorn Somalia for 15 months, she gave a chilling glimpse into what she had endured.

“There were times I was beaten, I was tortured,” she said soon after her release. “It was an extremely, extremely difficult situation.”

Three years later, Lindhout has revealed another horrible detail about her time in captivity, one that is both shocking and sadly unsurprising — she was also sexually abused. Lindhout was kept in chains in a dark room, she told an interviewer this month, “and I was starved and I was raped repeatedly by a group of teenaged boys.”

At a time when there is growing outrage around the world about pervasive sexual violence against women after the death of a 23-yearold student who was gang-raped in Delhi, Lindhout’s decision to speak publicly about being raped sends an important — even positive — message. It can only help reduce the stigma of sexual assault. A baby step, maybe, but a start. It is an example that more women, especially those in stable, democratic countries like Canada, should follow.

The Jane Doe-ism of sexual assault serves a crucial purpose. Publication bans on the names of sexual assault victims have helped encourage people to report sexual assaults who might not otherwise have done so, although it is still a grossly under-reported crime. Publication bans also help protect victims them from revictimization, which has long been the doubleedged sword of sexual violence. In some countries, sexual assault victims are literally revictimized, girls forced to marry their attackers or imprisoned or even killed for “adultery.” In less barbaric societies, the revictimization can take a subtler form, which is what laws protecting the identity of rape victims attempt to counter.

And now the idea of anonymity for those accused of sexual assault — until a conviction — is being tossed around in the UK. The idea is not without merit. Being wrongly accused of sexual assault is devastating. Why not make sure the stigma is reserved strictly for those found guilty of the crime?

When few people talk publicly about being raped, it tends to reinforce ideas that rape is not that common, or happens someplace else …

It is a complex question, but any move toward a more secretive court system is real reason for concern. Transparency is fundamental to justice and should only be eroded in extreme cases — the case for anonymity of rape victims meets that test.

But there are still good reasons for survivors of sexual violence to remove their own veils of anonymity. Protecting the identities of those who have been raped can have unintended consequences. When few people talk publicly about being raped, it tends to reinforce ideas that rape is not that common, or happens someplace else, and that there is something shameful about being raped which continues a cycle of stigma.

While only those who have experienced it can really understand the particular degradation and terror that rapists can inflict, Lindhout’s decision to talk openly about her experience suggests that strength can be gained from going public. She is not the only one doing so — there has been a rise in the number of people telling their sexual assault stories through social media. Hockey player Theo Fleury has become a well-known voice for survivors of sexual abuse and there have been many more.

Pandora’s Project, which supports survivors of sexual violence says this on its website about speaking publicly:

“Your act of speaking out can end the false sense of shame that survivors often carry. Seeing you cast off the shame may inspire them to do the same.”

Amanda Lindhout also calls herself a survivor, not a victim: “What happened to me in Somalia doesn’t define me … I am a survivor, I have survived rape and I have survived torture and I have survived an extremely difficult 460 days in captivity but I’ve moved on from that.”

As a report from the United Nations’ special representative on sexual violence in conflict noted last year, changing laws are important to stopping sexual violence, but they cannot be successful unless peoples’ attitudes are also changed.

Those who tell their own stories, from war-torn countries to the developed world, help chip away at the stigma, ignorance and even indifference that still surrounds the crime of sexual abuse. It can’t be an easy thing to do. But it is valuable.