In Ohio’s governor’s race, a campaign ad targeting childhood sexual abuse survivor Amy Acton reveals how women’s personal trauma can be weaponized against them in the pursuit of political power.
Women are seeking political office in unprecedented numbers across the United States: The 2026 election cycle has already set a new record for women pursuing governorships, with 85 major-party candidates, up from the previous high of 69 in 2022. Meanwhile, the number of women competing for seats in the U.S. House is approaching a historic peak.
Nevertheless, a gender gap persists in political office at both the federal and state levels. In legislatures and courts across the country, men dominate. They wield outsized power in Congress, state legislatures and key committees and subcommittees.
This imbalance has real consequences for women across the country, particularly when male-dominated legislatures make decisions about women’s bodies, health and reproductive freedom. Consider Mississippi, where the legislature passed a law in 2018 banning abortion after 15 weeks of pregnancy, with no exceptions for rape or incest. At the time, more than 85 percent of its legislators were men, and most committees were chaired by men. That law became the basis for the Supreme Court’s decision overturning Roe v. Wade.
The gender gap extends beyond officeholding, to the very idea of running for office.
And if you thought the gap was closing, as more women graduate from college and graduate school—often at higher rates than men—you would be wrong. Surprisingly, the gap remains pronounced among younger and middle-aged voters, with men expressing a stronger desire to seek political office than women.
Change Research, an organization that partners with campaigns, political coalitions, caucuses and advocacy organizations, has found that men are more likely than women to believe they are qualified to run for office—despite more women serving as primary or sole breadwinners, navigating demanding jobs, caring for children and aging parents, managing household budgets and confronting the everyday realities of the cost of living, from food and utilities to rent and childcare. Researchers have explored possible reasons for this divide, from women’s “election aversion” to the financial burdens and structural barriers associated with women’s candidacies.
One thing is clear: Men are validated when they run for office, often in ways women are not.
Structural barriers and financial burdens are only part of the story: Women who pursue political office must also contend with deeply personal attacks that can turn their identities, families and even experiences of abuse into political liabilities.
Consider Ohio’s gubernatorial race between billionaire Vivek Ramaswamy and Dr. Amy Acton. Recently, Ramaswamy ran an ad featuring Acton’s estranged mother, who calls her daughter a “liar” and claims she is unfit for office.
What is morally detestable about the ad is that Acton is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. Her mother sided with the man accused of raping Acton as a child—her stepfather—and left town with him while he was out on bond.
On a recent episode of On the Issues, Moira Donegan, a columnist at The Guardian, described the ad as an “abhorrent” and “disgusting gesture.”
I agree.
Too many women share Amy Acton’s experience, or some version of it—whether an assault by an uncle, stepfather or close family friend. They may not speak up because they know they could be blamed or ridiculed, just like Acton.
During that interview (which you can listen to here at Ms. Studios, or on Spotify or Apple Podcasts) Donegan said Acton’s stepfather “was sexually abusing Acton for about 3 years, from the ages of 9 to 12.” He “was indicted and arrested on those charges,” while Acton’s mother “took her husband’s side and skipped town with him when he was out on bond.” Acton and her estranged mother “have not spoken since a meeting in court … over those charges almost 50 years ago.”
Despite all of this, the president and vice president of the United States have defended Ramaswamy and his campaign ad.
Trump, who himself was found liable for sexual abuse by a New York jury, issued a statement on Truth Social asserting, “Frankly, anybody whose mother spoke about a daughter in that way would normally lead to the daughter being precluded from serving in Office, let alone the Office of Governor.”
And it seems that was the point.
Rather than Acton being heralded for surviving what would be difficult for anyone, let alone a child, the president and vice president have targeted her. Trump, who is no stranger to demeaning and bullying women with impunity, doubled down after the ad ran, calling Acton “defective, dishonest, and incapable,” and a “DISASTER who, uncontrollably, lies, cheats, and steals!”
The blatant and shameless hypocrisy is astounding.
Acton’s experience of childhood rape has become a political weapon against her, and women are all too familiar with this tactic. Clearly, that is the point.
Remember when Donald Trump denied raping E. Jean Carroll, calling her “mentally sick” and a “whack job”? Despite being photographed together, he falsely claimed, “I never met this woman.”
Multiple courts have since affirmed his civil liability for sexually abusing Carroll and defaming her. It took the jury just three hours to deliberate in the first trial. The Supreme Court recently declined to hear his appeal of that verdict.
Ramaswamy’s vicious campaign tactics have divided Republicans ahead of the highly anticipated midterm elections. In other words, the weaponization of childhood sexual abuse could backfire.
With the Cornell University sexual assault controversy continuing to unfold, simmering outrage over the government’s shameless response to Jeffrey Epstein’s victims and survivors, and new allegations of sexual assault against Trump detailed in a report by House Judiciary Committee Democrats, women have had enough.
The truth? Too many women share Amy Acton’s experience, or some version of it—whether an assault by an uncle, stepfather or close family friend. They may not speak up because they know they could be blamed or ridiculed, just like Acton.
According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, “one in five women in the United States experienced completed or attempted rape during their lifetime.” Most sexual assaults are committed by someone the victim knows, and “one in three female victims of completed or attempted rape experienced it for the first time between the ages of 11 and 17.”
Time’s up. We are all tired of it. And in Ohio, many women—and a lot of men—are fed up, too.
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A note from Ms. editors: We want to hear from you for The Majority, a new campaign collecting stories about how reproductive freedom has enabled readers to build the lives they want and need.
Poll after poll shows a majority of Americans support reproductive healthcare access. Yet public debate overlooks the lives shaped by abortion access, contraception, IVF, miscarriage care, maternal healthcare or comprehensive sex education—countless women who chose to pursue an education, have children, not have children, protect their health and chart their own future. What’s your reproductive freedom story? Add your voice. Together, these stories will help show not only why reproductive freedom remains a majority value, but also what it makes possible.
