Military Sexual Trauma — I Was Told to Get Over It

Guest Post: Rhea Nocturne shares the experience of being a woman in the Air Force.

In this guest post, a former Airman shares how years of ignored warnings, harassment, and retaliation broke her spirit long before she ever left the service. Her story exposes how leadership weaponized indifference and called it discipline.

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To some, it may come as a surprise, but I didn’t join the military out of patriotic duty. Like many others, I joined to escape — from hardship, from abuse — and to use it as a stepping stone toward a better life. 

To my dismay, I was thrown into another cycle of abuse — this time at the hands of multiple people, within a system that too often protects the wrong ones. 

I entered the military like everyone else: greeted by the yelling of MTIs. But I wasn’t fazed. My father had been a wannabe MTI himself, so to me, it felt like just another game of survival. During that time, I discovered something genuine: a sense of sisterhood. We were determined to prove — not just to leadership but to ourselves — that we were more than capable. The female MTIs were by far the toughest, and we had to be tougher. We had to outperform the men in every aspect. 

I was even told by some of my fellow Airmen that I came across as “intimidating.” I took that as a compliment — a reflection of the discipline and strength BMT instilled in me. 

At my first duty station, I met some incredible people who I still consider family to this day. But I also came face-to-face with the darker realities of military culture. And while I now understand the importance of holding on to the good, I can’t deny the damage the bad left behind. 

When Harassment Became Normal

There was a male airman on our dorm floor who would stand at his door and watch every time a woman walked by. The moment he heard female voices — or even heels — he would run to his peephole, then crack his door open to stare. It was unsettling. A reminder that, even in uniform, we weren’t safe from predatory behavior. 

Another time, a male roommate — a friend of my boyfriend at the time — slashed my tires on multiple occasions. I reported it to leadership, but was told that because it happened off-base, there was nothing they could do. It wasn’t until the third incident — which included slashing my boyfriend’s tires — that they finally stepped in. Even then, they did the bare minimum: he was ordered to pay restitution and attend anger management. 

Years later, that same man was arrested for stealing from a commander’s office. This was after already being caught breaking into the BX while deployed and mailing stolen Xboxes home. And yet, he was allowed to continue his career far longer than he ever should have. 

I once had an airfield manager tell me point-blank that women shouldn’t be allowed to deploy. His reasoning? That when women “hang out” with men downrange, it sends the wrong message, and it’s the men who get in trouble. He even told me about his own situation — claiming he was wrongly accused and that it was the woman’s fault for being around him. 

Not long after that, I was sent on a last-minute deployment. To say I was scared would be an understatement. 

The conditions were harsh — hot, chaotic, and foul-smelling. During the in-brief, the women were pulled aside and told to walk in groups due to a rise in sexual assaults. We were warned that many of the men on base had just returned from traumatic areas and “weren’t right in the head.” The message was clear: for our safety, stay together. Don’t walk alone. 

That was the military’s version of protection — placing the responsibility on women to prevent being assaulted, instead of addressing the problem at its source. 

Later during that deployment, my new airfield manager — a good man — informed me that he had to request special permission from the Qatari airfield leadership for me to be there. They approved it, but under strict guidelines: I could attend inspections, but only if I sat in the back, didn’t drive, and avoided eye contact or conversation with them. 

One moment sticks with me. The Qatari team came by to ask for a radio. I placed it on the counter in front of them, and one of the men looked at me with disgust — as if to say, “How dare you?” He then turned to my male coworker, who picked up the radio and handed it to him directly. Only then did the man accept it. 

“I didn’t speak up — out of fear that I would be dismissed, mocked, or labeled dramatic.”

— Rhea Nocturne

I trusted my airfield manager, but there was nothing he could do to stop how I was being treated. And I didn’t speak up — out of fear that I would be dismissed, mocked, or labeled dramatic. 

Two men from the weather unit were also openly hostile. One told me he wanted to “hypnotize” me — a comment that deeply unsettled me, and asked on more than one occasion. The other would interrupt me in casual conversations and say loudly, “Did I ask you? No. Go make me a sandwich.” It was a very isolating six months. I fell into depression. 

Retaliation in Uniform

My next duty station at the Air Force Academy made the previous two feel like a cakewalk. Both supervisors wrote me up multiple times — for not smiling. One even introduced me to the acronym HALT: “When you come into work, ask yourself — are you Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired?” 

And yes — I was angry. And rightfully so. 

Still, I tried to push through. I knew my value. I was a 5-star Airman. My performance, my awards, my record — all of it reflected someone committed to service. If I had the right leadership, I could’ve stayed the full 20 and made Chief. I know that in my heart. 

But I didn’t have the right leadership. I had people who broke me down. 

At the Air Force Academy, it got worse. I don’t speak to anyone from that shop now — maybe one or two. I can’t even drive by the airfield or the South Gate without a pit forming in my stomach. 

At one point, I disclosed to leadership that I was receiving mental health support. I wasn’t ready to share the full story, but I needed space. Instead of support, I was met with anger. My first airfield manager at USAFA took it personally, accused me of not trusting him, verbally berated me, and even threw a pen across the room during the conversation. 

Later, I was marked non-deployable due to a dog attack. A male coworker had to deploy in my place. He lashed out at me — publicly — yelling in front of the entire office. He made the workplace hostile and unsafe. 

I raised concerns, but leadership told me to “let him feel his feelings” and to “stay out of his way.”  

Pin it: A story of betrayal, survival, and finding strength after Military Sexual Trauma

This same man had access to my home address through the recall roster. I lived in fear he might show up — especially because he had previously been arrested for physically assaulting a woman, charges that were only dropped because the victim couldn’t remember the night. One of my male coworkers even expressed concern for my safety in private, telling me he was worried about the level of anger this man showed, and continued to show, toward me. 

When a new airfield manager took over, he ignored everything and told us to “just get over it.” He forced me to work shifts alone with the same man I feared. He disregarded my safety completely. This hostility lasted for about a year. Meanwhile, after coming back from the deployment, that same man was awarded a medal for “sacrificing” to go in my place — and then received orders to England as a reward. 

That same airfield manager even questioned why the women in our unit — including young female Airmen and a civilian — were hesitant to enter the fire department at our auxiliary airfield alone. That airfield was isolated — over an hour away from our main unit, with spotty cell service and bullet holes in the stop sign at the entrance. It didn’t feel safe. The women explained that walking into that building — a space clearly designed for and occupied by men — felt more like entering someone’s private dorm room than a shared workspace. But instead of listening or trying to understand, he brushed it off, saying, “Well, you just need to get over whatever you need to get over.” 

That moment broke me — not because of what it meant for me, but because I knew firsthand what it feels like when a man in a leadership position dismisses a woman’s concerns about safety. I remembered what it did to me the first time it happened as a young Airman. I couldn’t stand by and watch my young female Airmen go through the same thing. So, I sent him an email — not to accuse anyone — but to explain why women take precautions in isolated environments. It wasn’t about blame. It was about awareness. 

Later that night, I found out he’d read my email aloud, laughed, tore it up, and said, “I don’t care.” A week passed before I had to address him, because he would not address it himself. When I finally brought it up, he said, “Thanks for your contribution, but it’s not enough for me to fight for our own space out there.” He asked if anything had happened, and I said no. He replied, “You’re wrong for making assumptions about two men in the fire department.” 

I was told about his behavior after the email by my young female troop, a month later. I reacted. I went to my mental health counselor and demanded to be removed from the office. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had reached my breaking point. 

My commander got involved. The airfield manager was ordered to complete a month of Sexual Assault Awareness training. He requested to apologize to me, and I agreed — on the condition that my commander attend the meeting. 

Good thing he did. There was no apology. Instead, the airfield manager used that moment to berate me again — in front of our commander. When the meeting ended, my commander apologized to me privately, out in the hallway. 

But that was never the point. 

The point is that women in uniform are forced to live in a constant state of risk assessment. Because when something does happen, we’re blamed. We’re doubted. We’re told to get over it. 

And this doesn’t even begin to cover the sexual assaults and harassment I endured — experiences I never reported, because I saw how leadership had handled everything else. 

My Breaking Point

After six months of retaliation from that airfield manager for standing up — and maybe I didn’t react in the “perfect” way — I broke. I had spent years trying to keep it together in a system that refused to protect or believe me. 

That summer, I voluntarily admitted myself to outpatient treatment at a local mental health hospital. I needed help. I wanted to be better. I started trauma-focused therapy for MST, and I started writing Bootstrap Girl. Because writing it down was the only way I could begin to speak. 

When I returned to work, the shop had moved on without me. Even the women I had tried to advocate for now avoided me and even talked openly about their disgust for me. 

And all of this — everything I’ve shared — still doesn’t include the three sexual assaults I survived while in uniform. 

How I Found My Voice

I don’t share this story for sympathy. I share it because there are countless others like me — still in the military, still in silence. I found my voice through writing. Bootstrap Girl became my outlet, my healing, and my way of reclaiming what was taken from me. I’m no longer afraid to be honest about what happened. If my story helps even one person feel less alone or more empowered to speak — then it was worth every word. 

© 2025 Rhea Nocturne. Bootstrap Girl and all related content are part of an original work in progress. All rights reserved. This piece was written under the pen name Rhea Nocturne to protect the author’s privacy. The copyright is held under the author's legal name.

False Allegations of Sexual Assault, the Myth Protecting Military Sexual Trauma Predators

How the military protects its image by making serbvice members believe the biggest threat is being falsely accused. The actual data shows they should worry about survivors suffering in silence.

Department of Defense data shows false allegations of sexual assault in the military are rare, while retaliation against survivors is widespread.Department of Defense data shows false allegations of sexual assault in the military are rare, while retaliation against survivors is widespread. A recent article from Military Trial Defenders claims that false allegations of sexual assault are a "huge problem" in the military, citing that over seventy percent of military academy attendees believe this to be true.

But how common are false allegations of sexual assault? Sexual assault statistics show the actual rate is between two and ten percent.

This statistics problem is a deliberate piece of disinformation that creates a perception that protects predators while destroying survivors.

I know because I lived through both the assault and the system that followed.

False Allegations Military Sexual Assault: Who Benefits From This Lie

When people believe false allegations of sexual assault are rampant instead of rare, predators win.

The perception builds on existing misogyny that women exaggerate for attention. So few sexual assault cases make it to trial because of this notion.

Predators understand the possibility for consequences is low. They commit crimes repeatedly and escalate severity because the system protects them.

Meanwhile, DoD data shows false complaints haven't exceeded three percent since 2014. In 2024, just one percent of reports were false.

Department of Defense data shows false allegations of sexual assault in the military are rare, while retaliation against victims is widespread.

UCMJ False Allegations: The Real Fear Survivors Face

The fear of reporting a sexual assault has more to do with only the assault itself.

Victims know their careers will likely be ruined for coming forward. They know they'll be retaliated against and called liars. Worst of all, they'll be completely ostracized by peers for not staying silent.

Survivors on my The Silenced Voices of MST describe experiencing compound trauma worse than the original assault.

When someone reports, they're ostracized while perpetrators are believed and comforted. Investigations focus on poking holes in victim statements. Living quarters get trashed, cars vandalized, work tools disappear.

The data confirms this reality: military personnel are twelve times more likely to experience retaliation than see their attacker convicted.

Burden of Proof in Sexual Assault Cases: The Conditioning Machine

Military academy attendees have been conditioned to see themselves as potential victims of false accusations rather than part of a system destroying real survivors.

The military protects its image by making service members believe the biggest threat is being falsely accused. The actual data shows they should worry about survivors suffering in silence.

This narrative serves institutional interests. It's easier to fear false allegations of sexual assault than confront sexual predators operating freely while survivors get psychologically tortured for speaking up. The burden of proof in sexual assault cases becomes weaponized against survivors rather than seeking truth.

Research shows 31 percent of men and 28 percent of women experienced retaliation after assault, whether they reported or not.

Evolutionary Accountability

Accountability ends military sexual violence.

We need to create an environment completely inhospitable to sexual violence and harassment. That means removing bystanders who witnessed harassment but did nothing. Removing supervisors, leaders, and commanders who allowed for an environment conducive to sexual violence.

When careers are destroyed and people realize they can't support their families because they protected predators, they won't tolerate it.

Accountability is a form of enforced adaptation. In basic training, when one person made a mistake, the whole unit paid the price through extra runs or pushups. That collective consequence changed behavior quickly because nobody wanted to carry the burden for someone else’s actions.

The same principle applies here. When offices are emptied and careers end for protecting predators, the perception shifts. People adapt their behavior when silence and complicity carry real consequences.

Department of Defense data shows false allegations of sexual assault in the military are rare, while retaliation against victims is widespread.

Many people never personally witness sexual violence, which makes it easy for myths to spread. But consistent, visible consequences create a new reality where protecting predators is no longer tolerated.

The Path Forward

After nine years of struggling with treatment-resistant depression from MST, I experienced a miracle. A civilian provider fought for me to get new medication that reduced every symptom in three days.

Coming back to life after nearly a decade made me realize I had to help other survivors reach that same place.

I started The Silenced Voices of MST podcast to let survivors know they're not alone and they are believed. Our voices lead to public recognition of Military Sexual Trauma's pervasiveness. We'll be returning with firsthand accounts of Military Sexual Trauma in just a few short weeks.

Public demand for accountability creates environmental change. Changed environments mean service members take those values home and create outward change.

The U.S. military has led American social change before. It integrated early. It paid women equally before most organizations.

Sexual violence can be the next thing we conquer together.

But only if we stop protecting the myth and start protecting survivors.

What will it take for your military community to prioritize survivor safety over institutional reputation? Share this article if you believe accountability saves lives.

Military Sexual Trauma in Korea’s Drinking Culture and Trafficking: Lakeydra Houston (Part 2) | The Silenced Voices of MST with Rachelle Smith

Lakeydra Houston shares her story of Military Sexual Trauma in the U.S. Air Force, exposing alcohol culture in Korea, systemic betrayal, and survivor advocacy.

U.S. Air Force veteran Lakeydra Houston discusses Military Sexual Trauma, alcohol culture in Korea, and her journey to advocacy on The Silenced Voices of MST .

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Intro

U.S. Air Force veteran Lakeydra Houston shares her experience of Military Sexual Trauma while stationed in Korea, where a culture of heavy drinking and peer pressure created unsafe conditions for service members. She describes how trafficking operated inside the ranks, how leadership failed to act, and how systemic betrayal deepened her trauma. Despite these challenges, Lakeydra has become an advocate for survivors, emphasizing the need for accountability, support, and reform.

This is Part 2 of Lakeydra’s story. Read Part 1 here: https://www.silencedvoicesmst.com/blog/military-sexual-trauma-lakeydra-houston-part1

Episode Summary

In this continuation of her interview on The Silenced Voices of MST, Lakeydra Houston opens up about the ways Military Sexual Trauma shaped her service in the U.S. Air Force. Stationed in Korea, she encountered a drinking culture that normalized alcohol abuse and lowered safeguards for vulnerable service members. She explains how this environment not only increased the risk of assault but also protected perpetrators from accountability.

Lakeydra details multiple incidents of Military Sexual Trauma and the profound sense of betrayal she felt when leadership failed to act. Instead of receiving support, she faced retaliation, blame, and silence that compounded the harm. Her account also reveals the presence of trafficking networks inside the military, where power and authority were used to exploit and control.

Adding to this burden, Lakeydra experienced devastating personal loss with the death of her sister while she was still in service. The grief amplified her struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts, leaving her isolated in a culture unwilling to protect or support survivors.

U.S. Air Force veteran Lakeydra Houston discusses Military Sexual Trauma and alcohol culture in Korea on The Silenced Voices of MST with Rachelle Smith

Despite this, Lakeydra found strength in advocacy. By seeking therapy, connecting with survivor networks, and building community through groups like KeyFit and The Pink Berets, she began transforming her pain into purpose. Today, she speaks out about the connection between Military Sexual Trauma, toxic military culture, and systemic neglect, calling for urgent reform and trauma-informed care.

“You have to
remember your ‘why’.”
- Lakeydra Houston

This episode points out the intersection of Military Sexual Trauma, alcohol culture in Korea, trafficking within the Air Force, and the enduring fight for survivor justice.

Lakeydra’s experience is a rallying call to action. Her story exposes institutional betrayal, the hidden crisis of trafficking, and the devastating effects of unaddressed complex traumas. But take this to heart. Her story is an example of the almost miraculous healing power of support and community. Lakeydra’s journey shows that even in the darkest moments, there is still a dawn.

Episode Trigger Warnings and Timestamps

• 01:18–02:29: Alcohol abuse and toxic drinking culture

• 02:32–02:50: MST and military inaction

• 02:54–04:10: Peer pressure, bullying, isolation

• 04:23–05:39: Sexual assault, betrayal, victim blaming

• 05:42–06:18: Further assault, deepening trauma

• 06:25–07:23: Depression, reluctance to disclose

• 07:44–08:18: Human trafficking, leadership complicity

• 08:24–10:19: “Juicy Girls,” survivor guilt

• 11:02–14:10: Sister’s death, harassment, self-harm, suicidal thoughts

• 17:34–18:39: Supporting another MST victim, starting advocacy

• 19:31–20:34: Survivor silencing, victim blaming

• 26:08–26:43: Transition out of service, overdose mention, ongoing healingThis episode contains a few references to news articles and books that are listed below:

Resources from this Episodes

1. 🔍 If you’re currently working through the VA Disability claims process, download our free toolkit that helps you get the rating you deserve: Get access now

2. KeyFit

3. The Pink Berets

4. The Turning Point 

5. Wounds to Wisdom: Healing Through Veteran and First Responder Narratives

6. Boulder Crest 

7. 1 in 6

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Join our mailing list to learn about upcoming episodes, new resources, and daily support.

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Listen to the Full Coversation

Leave a Review

If this episode was meaningful to you, please leave a rating and review on Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Reviews help more people discover stories of Military Sexual Trauma and join the movement for change.

Next Episode

Our host, Rachelle Smith, speaks with Gender Violence Institute founder, Chuck Derry, who offers insight into why Military Sexual Trauma has endured in the Armed Forces and exactly how to stop it.

Support and Community

• Veterans Crisis Line: 988, then 1

• SA Support for the DoD Community, contact the DoD Safe Helpline: https://www.sapr.mil/dod-safe-helpline

• Join our Facebook community: The Advocates of MST

About the Guest

Lakeydra Houston is a U.S. Air Force veteran, survivor of Military Sexual Trauma, and advocate for reform. Through her work with organizations such as KeyFit and The Pink Berets, she supports fellow survivors and pushes for systemic change in how the military addresses sexual assault.

Internal Links

• Part 1 of Lakeydra’s story

• Episodes index

• About page

Military Sexual Trauma at Her First Duty Station: Lakeydra Houston (Part 1)

U.S. Air Force veteran Lakeydra Houston shares her story of Military Sexual Trauma at her first duty station, where harassment escalated into assault. She explains how alcohol became a way to cope, how mental health struggles were ignored, and why survivor support is urgently needed.

U.S. Air Force veteran Lakeydra Houston shares her story of Military Sexual Trauma at her first duty station on The Silenced Voices of MST with Rachelle Smith.

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Intro

U.S. Air Force veteran Lakeydra Houston shares how Military Sexual Trauma shaped her earliest years in service. After completing training and arriving at her first duty station, she faced harassment that escalated into assault. With few resources and no support, she turned to alcohol to cope. Her story reveals how retaliation, silence, and a lack of mental health care left survivors unprotected in the Air Force.

This is Part 1 of Lakeydra’s story. Read Part 2 here: www.silencedvoicesmst.com/blog/military-sexual-trauma-lakeydra-houston-part2

Episode Summary

She was reporting in, doing exactly what every new Airman does when they arrive at their first assignment. Lakeydra Houston recalls being groped by a first sergeant under the pretense of fixing her uniform. When she fled, another airman warned her not to report him because she had tried and was being discharged for it.

The men in her unit already knew the sergeant’s reputation. They laughed about it. Lakeydra was silenced, shamed, and pushed toward alcohol as her only way to cope. Surrounded by a toxic drinking culture and carrying a weapon every day, she unraveled emotionally while no one noticed and no one intervened.

The spiral deepened as Lakeydra entered a volatile relationship, became pregnant, and was deployed just six weeks after giving birth. She was neither physically nor emotionally ready. While serving in Dubai, harassment and violence continued. Some perpetrators were officers. Others were peers too scared or ashamed to report. Alcohol fueled the cycle until it was finally cut off, but by then the damage had spread. When Lakeydra received a call that her husband had been shot, she felt safer remaining overseas than returning home to a man she could not trust.

Pin this story to help amplify Lakeydra’s voice and story for survivors!

Her story exposes how toxic command climates and male-dominated cultures allow repeat offenders to thrive while silencing survivors. Systemic betrayal compounds personal trauma, trapping service members in a loop of silence, retaliation, and self-destruction.

“Going to the military was my way to start over and feel like I had a purpose in life.”
- Lakeydra

Click here to explore more survivor stories

If you’re still wondering if your pain “counts” or if you’re the only one, you’re not. Lakeydra hopes her courage helps other survivors understand they’re not alone, and that they can get out of the loop that they’re stuck in with support and help from advocates, trustworthy leadership, and mental health treatment and services.

Episode Trigger Warnings and Timestamps

• 01:36: Childhood sexual assault and drug use for coping

• 03:30–04:56: Discussion of September 11

• 07:36: Loss of sister

• 09:07: Loss of parent to gun violence

• 09:49–10:59: Harassment and sexual assault in technical school

• 11:26–22:39: Multiple assaults, childhood trauma, predatory leadership, peer complicity, self-blame, alcohol abuse, domestic violence, pregnancy, suicide, deployment after childbirth, family trauma cycles

• 23:02–29:11: Assaults on deployment tied to alcohol and abuse of power, reporting barriers due to rank, domestic violence, financial abuse, betrayal by spouse, ongoing trauma

Resources from This Episode

• Free VA Disability Toolkit: https://www.silencedvoicesmst.com/disability-toolkit

• Join our Facebook community: https://www.facebook.com/groups/theadvocatesofmst

Join our mailing list to learn about upcoming episodes, new resources, and daily support.

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Listen to the Full Conversation

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Leave a Review

If this episode was meaningful to you, please leave a rating and review on Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Reviews help more people discover stories of Military Sexual Trauma and join the movement for change.

Next Episode

 Click here to read and watch Part 2 of Lakeydra’s story, where she discusses Military Sexual Trauma in Korea, the role of alcohol culture, trafficking inside the ranks, and her advocacy for survivors.

Support and Community

• Veterans Crisis line: Dial 988, the press 1

• DoD Safe Helpline: https://www.sapr.mil/dod-safe-helpline

About the Guest

Lakeydra Houston is a U.S. Air Force veteran, survivor of Military Sexual Trauma, and advocate for reform. She found the organization KeyFit and also works with The Pink Berets to support survivors and promote systemic change.

Internal Links

• Part 2 of Lakeydra’s story

• Episode index

• About page

You are not alone. We believe you. You matter.