Ashley, 20, graciously sat down with Unsilenced founder Shelby Smith to share her powerful story for the first time. Her revealing testament is bound to change minds about the so-called “painless” voiding cystourethrogram (VCUG) test. [00:30] For Ashley, the effects have been detrimental and lifelong, even before finding out about her test in October 2022. Like many others, Ashley developed dissociative amnesia after her procedure at age 2, leading to 18 grueling years of severe mental health issues, avoidance of medical care, disordered eating, and self-harm. Ashley sets the record straight from the get-go, explaining, “The VCUG ruined my life. It turned my childhood very dark.” She describes herself as “a very mute and anxious child” who was terrified of any person in authority, from doctors to teachers to therapists. [00:45] She even recalls threatening to kill people in her preschool and home if they came too close. “I didn't want anyone to come near my body,” Ashley says. “I believed that at any point, someone can just violate my body. And that when they do, I just have to deal with it. I have to just let it happen, because if not, I'm going to be held down.” [01:30] Growing up, Ashley remembers feeling “so broken and defective and violated, all the time.” The bodily experiences she was forced to relive every day from the VCUG procedure eventually landed her in an eating recovery center—an exhausting and emotional journey that ultimately that offered zero insights into her suffering. [01:45] “I just wanted to die,” Ashley says. “I didn’t want to exist anymore. I wanted to feel like I had some control over my body.” [02:00] Her confusion and pain led her through a revolving door of specialists in young adulthood. “I just remember going into therapy, begging these therapists,” Ashley recalls. “Like, ‘There’s something wrong with me; there’s something wrong with my body. Can you please help me figure it out?’” When her parents began to micromanage her diet, Ashley had no choice but to turn to self-injurious behaviors. What began as childhood skin-picking—a body-focused behavior that left Ashley with bleeding heels and a perpetual limp as a little girl—evolved into a more dangerous coping mechanism. “My parents were watching what I was eating…obviously I couldn't starve myself anymore, so I moved on to cutting,” Ashley says, adding that there were many times she almost needed stitches. As someone with complex PTSD, the intense dissociation that Ashley experienced for many, many years led to more memory loss, as she recalled some mornings “waking up, covered in blood” with no memory of what happened. “I hated my body,” Ashley says. “Because my body felt so broken, and no one could help me figure it out. I felt so violated all the time.” Ashley adds that her VCUG experience as significantly worsened by a subsequent pelvic exam at 5 years old, retraumatizing her immensely. The pelvic exam was only necessary because Ashley’s vagina was torn during her VCUG. Horrified, Ashley’s mom immediately declined another VCUG when the doctor tried to coerce her, claiming that two-year-old Ashley would certainly die without another VCUG. “VCUGs are not treatments; they're purely diagnostic,” Ashley points out. “And no child should have their vagina torn in the process.” When Ashley’s mom refused to consent, the hospital blackmailed her. Not only did they threaten to call Child Protective Services, but they also withheld the life-saving antibiotics that Ashley’s body desperately needed to fight a kidney infection. Despite the doctor’s cold promise that her daughter would die within weeks without another VCUG, Ashley’s mom chose to take her daughter home without antibiotics. Ashley’s VUR—which, Ashley points out, was “very severe”—spontaneously resolved. When it comes to how VCUGs are performed (an empty concept, given that there is no standardized protocol to this day, in 2023), the lack of vaginal penetration is a common and crude argument employed by those who lack an understanding of sexual trauma and childhood PTSD. Ashley isn’t alone in experiencing a form of vaginal penetration during her test. Other women recall similar experiences; one survivor recalls the doctor accidentally inserting the catheter into her vaginal canal instead of her urethra multiple times. And yet, there is zero dialogue around the obvious potential for sexual abuse in the VCUG exam room. [11:30] “My mom was blackmailed and lied to,” Ashley states. “She also recognizes that they sexually abused me in that room.” When asked what advice she would share with fellow survivors, Ashley replies, “I would say, ‘You are not broken. You never were broken. You’re not alone…It is not your fault what happened.”

Join the Unsilenced Movement. Visit www.unsilencedmovement.com to learn more about voiding cystourethrogram (VCUG) trauma, the "gold standard" to diagnose VUR in kids that produces the same psychological effects as a violent rape. There are alternatives. They are safer. They are more accurate. They are even MORE AFFORDABLE for U.S. families. It's time to stand up for children around the world. It's time to retire the VCUG for good. ⚠️ "gold standard" / noun "The best, most reliable, or most prestigious thing of its type."

Meet Ashley, a 20-year-old VCUG survivor from Ontario, Canada. An Unsilenced co-founder and aspiring psychiatrist, Ashley’s voice is a unique and powerful perspective of life after VCUG. [4:25] For Ashley, the biggest impact in her adult life her long-term avoidance of medical care. “Going into medical settings is a continued challenge for me, and it never gets easier,” she explains. It’s just kind of something you have to do. But I still avoid it as much as I can.” In childhood, she explains, her self-esteem took the worst hit. “With the self-hate that this procedure gives you…I never believed in myself,” she says. “I was suicidal and I was self-harming, all throughout that time in my life. Being a trauma survivor is very isolating as a kid.” Although Ashley has only a brief memory of her VCUG at age 2. “To imagine it from a third perspective, like if I was a fly on the wall—it’s so…hard,” Ashley emphasizes, grasping for the right words to explain the immense emotion on her face. [20:25] Like many other women, Ashley developed dissociative amnesia after her test, but the impact was just as great, pointing to the urgency of understanding trauma and how it can affect the human body. [24:45] “Our nervous system is not any different from our other bodily systems,” Ashley points out, adding that it “isn’t any less real” than touching your own skin. “Your nervous system like the main computer in the body. And when that’s dysregulated, everything else is dysregulated.” [25:00] When asked what changes she wants to see in the medical community, Ashley answers with a half-smile. “I really want—I mean, there’s a few things,” she admits with a laugh. “I really want trauma-informed care to be something that every single doctor practices. I want that to be in every medical school curriculum. The nervous system affects every other system, and you can’t just pretend it’s independent from everything in the body...Even if these tests were only performed when completely necessary, they are still causing trauma equivalent to sexual abuse."

In this powerful and revealing VCUG survivor interview, Unsilenced co-founder Mollie Bushart shares her incredible life story of grief, loss, and healing after undergoing three VCUGs in early childhood—which, Mollie says, “definitely impacted me very much as a child.” “Before having [the VCUGs] done, my parents used to describe me as very adventurous,” Mollie remembers. “I was always the one that wanted to go on big rollercoasters. I was willing to do anything. After the VCUGs, I became very anxious, very withdrawn, very afraid of my surroundings.” A central part to Mollie’s journey is her longstanding struggle with vaginismus, a condition that multiple healthcare professionals accused her of “making up,” despite the detrimental effects on herself and her long-term boyfriend in New York. After developing dissociative amnesia due to sexual trauma, Mollie suspected she had vaginismus as early as 12 or 13 years old—just a few years after she started to feel suicidal at the very young age of 8. At 19 years old, after being told that her medical records had been destroyed, she was lost and left grappling for answers in an empty void, searching for the the truth that she not only deserved, but desperately needed to heal and take back her life. [4:15] “It was just very obvious to me that I had a definite fear of my genitals,” Mollie says. “I was very against using tampons. It just became more and more clear, the older I got, that something was definitely wrong.” Her brave efforts to find the answer left her and her long-term partner empty-handed, leading them to wonder if she’d been sexually abused in childhood and repressed the memory. Both her partner and close friend in the psychotherapy field echoed her thoughts, ultimately unable to offer any other potential reason for Mollie’s frustrating and unexplainable struggle. “I went to my gynecologist, and they said I did not have vaginismus at all,” Mollie recalls. “And I naively believed them instead of myself, which basically led to the first time I tried. And every time after that was like, 'Well, I definitely have vaginismus. There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it.'” But, Mollie adds, doctors continued to gaslight her into believing there was nothing wrong with her. “It definitely put a strain on my relationship,” Mollie points out. “Not only did I feel like I wasn’t good enough to be loved, and I couldn’t contribute to a relationship what I was supposed to, but it also made him feel insecure about himself, and be afraid of hurting me.” [7:00] A year later, Mollie found out about her VCUGs in the tiny apartment that she and her boyfriend shared when her mom texted her to say that Mollie had confided to her about vaginismus-related symptoms as a kid, and she suspected the VCUGs may be to blame. She explained that Mollie "wouldn’t even let doctors near her waist area” whatsoever after having the procedure. “They would have to hold me down just to examine me,” Mollie says. “And so I looked it up online, and I found a whole lot of articles about how safe the VCUG was, and how harmless and risk-free it was. And it was just this feeling of, like…I don’t understand. Because it’s saying that it’s safe, and that nothing happens, and that there’s no risks. But then I’m having all these problems, and they don’t match up together.” [19:00] In terms of her healing journey, Mollie says that the most difficult part of VCUG trauma recovery was simply coming to terms with the horrible thing that happened to her. “That’s been the hardest part,” she confesses. “I searched for so long. I searched everywhere for an answer to these questions of why I was having so many problems as a kid.” Mollie explains that advocacy has been both a positive and negative aspect of her healing journey. As one of the Unsilenced co-founders, Mollie has made tremendous strides to raise awareness, specifically when it comes to being on the lookout for other survivors who are also desperately seeking the knowledge that Mollie once searched fruitlessly for, too. [19:30] “I feel like I’m making a difference,” Mollie reflects. “And it’s been really rewarding to speak with all these survivors, and hear their stories, because it validates a lot of my experiences. A lot of the work I do is trying to find survivors.” [20:15] Mollie compares her role to helping other women "finish the puzzle" like she had to do. "Some people have a couple pieces," she explains, "and some people have the border, and some people have all but one. My job is kind of…” She pretends to lay the final piece in her New York apartment. “Finishing the puzzle, and saying, ‘This is what happened to you.’” Read Mollie's full story at https://www.unsilencedmovement.com/post/unsilenced-survivor-shares-her-battle-with-vaginismus-after-vcug-trauma .

For the first time at Unsilenced, we sat down with our brave VCUG survivors to hear how the experience shaped their lives, from childhood to adulthood. "There wasn't a whole lot of empathy from anyone in the room," Emilee recalls. She adds that if there was an "ideal" patient for this procedure, she thinks it'd be her. "I had a lot of other medical issues, so I was already used to being poked and prodded," she explains, adding that she had a passion for the fascinating world of healthcare as a child. She describes her young self as a "people pleaser" who grew to love the praise and pats on the back she'd receive from various healthcare professionals throughout her journey - a long and uncomfortable one, given the health complications she experienced in early development. [1:45] Unlike many VCUG survivors, Emilee remembers being "in a really good mood" on the day of her procedure at age 7...the first procedure she remembers. "I was fascinated by medical procedures. Being told I was getting an X-ray done of my stomach, my bladder...I was super excited about that." But her cheerfulness was short-lived. "I was goofing around, making jokes and stuff like that," she reflects. "Until they started hurting me." Don't miss this exclusive interview with one of many resilient women who made the courageous decision to #LiveUnsilenced after VCUG trauma.

Meet Abby, a 22-year-old VCUG survivor from New Mexico. Abby shares invaluable insights in a powerful and moving interview of life after VCUG trauma. Get to know Abby and our other Unsilenced Survivors at www.unsilencedmovement.com ❤️ [6:40] After undergoing a staggering amount of VCUGs as a child (10-12 tests total) Abby reflects on what romantic intimacy looks like to her. "I can't even get close to being in a romantic relationship," she reflects. "It feels weird to me. People seeing me in that way feels weird to me." [7:40] She goes on to explain something that will likely resonate with fellow VCUG survivors, adding, "I always thought I'd be the girl who beat the living crap out of anyone who hurt me...but I'm not that girl. My natural response is to freeze, and dissociate. Because that's what I was taught." When it comes to sharing her traumatic experience with others, Abby recalls being well-received by her therapists, if not fully understood, describing the mental health specialists as seeming unsure of "how to help." [12:20] Whenever she talks about the VCUGs, Abby says, "I always feel like I"m overreacting. Because that's what I was told back then, when I had my own concerns about what was happening to me. I was told like, those feelings couldn't possibly be valid. That's something I still carry with me. That's a burden I still carry with me. I think the hardest thing is to believe myself." When asked what she'd share with the healthcare community, Abby replies, "Well, they need to be honest about everything. When I was a kid, both I and my parents consented to a version of this procedure that was 'just uncomfortable,' that wouldn't leave me with any trauma, and that I wouldn't remember." Abby speaks to a central tenet expressed by all members in our Unsilenced Community: the dire need to establish legally effective informed consent. To hear more from survivors like Abby and learn more about the Unsilenced Movement, visit unsilencedmovement.com ❤️

In his iconic book The Body Keeps the Score, Braselton van der Kolk breaks down decades of credible evidence to support that trauma will always leave its mark on the body, even when survivors don't remember the traumatic event. This can create a surreal, terrifying, simulation-like world for kids suffering from dissociative amnesia, as their brains and bodies will continue to reap the consequences of the event that their conscious mind cannot remember. This can lead to a range of serious psychiatric effects, long-term health problems, and chronic mental health conditions like C-PTSD, depression, and suicidality. In our new post, Shelby of Unsilenced breaks down some crucial points for parents and caregivers about the long-term harms of VCUG that doctors won't tell you...even for children who experience full or partial memory loss.

The Unsilenced Movement is committed to closing the gap between pediatric providers and VUR families by highlighting the need for alternative diagnostic measures, standardized protocol for VCUG performance and results, and legally enforceable standards for obtaining informed consent from pediatric patients and parents. In this video, Unsilenced founder Shelby Smith explains the mission behind the movement, highlighting the truth about Vesicoureteral Reflux (VUR) and Voiding Cystourethrogram (VCUG), the decades-old "gold standard" diagnostic test for VUR. 00:00 - How the Unsilenced Movement Started 03:08 - What Is VCUG Trauma? 05:55 - What Does VCUG Diagnose? 07:00 - Our Mission: Exposing Truths 09:24 - VCUG Alternatives 12:00 - Informed Consent Violations 14:20 - False Promotion of VCUG 16:30 - We're Here for Parents & Families