How Trauma-Informed Care Strengthens Justice For Sexual Assault Survivors

In Texas, less than one in ten sexual assault survivors report the crime to law enforcement, according to a report from the Houston Area Women’s Center. When survivors do choose to file a report, the process is often far from painless: clothing must be stripped and collected, interviews and statements must be given, and physical examinations must occur to collect DNA and further evidence. When executed incorrectly, this can lead to re-traumatization—which is why Tracy Matheson’s mission is to give survivors autonomy and comfort in their most vulnerable moments.

“Project Beloved,” Matheson said, “burst out of a parent’s worst nightmare.”

In April 2017, Matheson’s 22-year-old daughter, Molly Jane, was raped and murdered. Molly was a Fort Worth-based college student, an aspiring social worker, and the only daughter among three brothers. Her killer then went on to take the life of photographer Megan Getrum, age 36, just days later. Her mother went on to advocate for thousands of Texans and survivors. She began by educating herself about Texas legislation and trauma-informed care.

“If a person decides to go forward and get an exam or speak to law enforcement, we’ve made that path extremely complicated and not helpful or healing to the survivors,” she said. “Law enforcement needs to collect clothing as evidence, and the options available aren’t always ideal. One option is not having anything at all for them to change into, so we don’t collect clothing, so we miss evidence. Another is paper clothes or scrubs, which seem like an insult.”

Exactly one year after Molly Jane’s death, Matheson established the nonprofit Project Beloved: The Molly Jane Mission to advocate for sexual assault survivors. Based in Fort Worth, their first act was to provide “Beloved Bundles” to local law enforcement offices and rape crisis centers, which includes a drawstring bag containing clothing, comfortable undergarments, toiletries, and a hygiene kit.

“The idea is that…following forensic medical exams, [survivors] can get clothes, take a shower, wash their hair, brush their teeth, and walk away with dignity,” said Matheson. That dignity is often accompanied by disclosure—more detailed memory retrieval occurs when trauma-informed practices are used. Trauma has documented neurobiological effects that impair communication and memory in high-stress environments, and informed interventions are necessary to counteract these effects. The bundles were only the beginning of Project Beloved’s intervention efforts.

“The trauma-informed investigation has become a best practice,” she explains. “A component of a trauma-informed investigation is a soft interview room.” A soft interview room is a space that erases the cold, clinical environment of a law enforcement office and replaces it with a specialized space for victims of sexual assault and other traumas. The rooms are often equipped with comfortable furniture, calming colors and artwork, and soft lighting to create a safe, supportive environment.

Matheson consulted with Dr. David Lisak, a nationally recognized expert in the neurobiology of trauma, regarding the development of soft interview rooms. Project Beloved had received a swell of financial support from Texans seeking to support sexual assault survivors, and she wanted to spend the money in a way that helped as many survivors as possible. When she asked whether the rooms were too minimal, whether the efforts would really matter, Dr. Lisak responded: “Absolutely, it would matter. It would matter because it’s going to open the door to more important conversations.”

As of this writing, Project Beloved has fully funded and designed over 220 soft interview rooms across the nation. Tracy considers Molly Jane in every design choice, and features Megan Getrum’s nature photographs in every room to honor them. Not a single room has been mandated or solicited; each organization has contacted Project Beloved and requested a soft interview room—not because of legislation, but because of their results.

“We’ve worked with Houston and Detroit and Dallas and Kansas City and branches of the military, university police departments, the FBI, Homeland Security, and then tiny, tiny jurisdictions…Google Maps and I have become very good friends. The word is spreading, and people are taking notice that the crime of sexual assault is so unique. We have to investigate it differently if we’re going to make any progress in holding offenders accountable,” said Matheson.

Accountability is a core theme in Project Beloved’s mission. To Matheson, it is inseparable from a survivor’s dignity. Trauma-informed interventions are only effective when law enforcement compiles and analyzes the gathered information effectively. Project Beloved’s work exposed a larger structural problem: even when survivors are treated with care, their cases can still fail if institutions lack the tools to connect patterns of violence.

During the Texas legislative session in 2019, Matheson championed House Bill 3106, formally known as Molly Jane’s law. When it went into effect, all law enforcement agencies in Texas were required to enter information gathered from sexual assault cases into ViCAP—the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, a federal database used by the FBI to connect patterns across jurisdictions. Matheson reports that the law has removed rapists from the streets of Arlington and Tyler since it was enacted. Molly Jane’s Law is a rare example of survivor-centered policy that has delivered measurable public safety outcomes.

Yet, the law’s success also highlights a contradiction: while Texas mandates survivor-centered data practices, there is no equivalent for trauma-informed care. Despite extensive research demonstrating that trauma-informed practices lead to better results, their implementation largely depends on a precinct's willingness to both self-initiate and participate. Soft interview rooms are not required at the state level, nor are anything like the bundles. The result is a stark gap in quality of care dependent on geographic location, professional training, and nonprofit affiliation.

When survivors fall through the holes of their own safety net, they are further stripped of their bodily autonomy. Without trauma-informed investigations, survivors may not receive timely medical care, preserve forensic evidence found on their bodies, or make informed decisions about pregnancy—all in the immediate aftermath of physical violence.

“When I found Molly’s body on the floor of her shower, I saw that she had a tattoo,” Matheson said. In simple script, the tattoo read “Beloved.”

That word now functions as both a legacy and a mandate—one that asks institutions to treat survivors as human beings whose dignity is inseparable from justice. Texas has already seen what happens when survivor-centered principles are embedded into policy, which begs the question: could trauma-informed care become the rule, rather than the exception?