During our first meeting, he requested that I masturbate for him. When I declined, he lectured me about how my refusal was representative of a lack o
During our first meeting, he requested that I masturbate for him. When I declined, he lectured me about how my refusal was representative of a lack of trust and how he had failed me as a director. “You see, what I need to get you to understand is that I will never ask you to do something that you are going to say ‘no’ to, because if you say ‘no,’ then I have failed. I have failed as a director, and therefore, I have failed as a person.” He gave me this lecture on more than one occasion. On the surface, it seemed like he was being respectful of my choices, when, in reality, he was a manipulative monster.
During one of our meetings, he requested that I get naked for him. When I refused, he told me I had a prepubescent attitude toward my body and there was only one way to fix it: point out each one of my bodily flaws to him as I perceived them; he would show me that my body was handsome. Never mind that I struggled with some body dysmorphia. James Toback had the final word.
I could process the various acts I engaged in, the reasons why I kept returning, and the layers upon layers of manipulations he served me. Yet a part of me still felt stupid for falling for his bait. I wasn’t an actor. Why did I think it was even remotely realistic for me to go to bed one night as a graduate student and wake up the next morning a movie star?
By 2018, I had processed all I needed to process and could process. I moved on. Fast forward to 2022, when the Adult Survivors Act was enacted in New York state, which extended a one-year window for victims of sexual abuse to file lawsuits in civil court, regardless of when the abuse occurred. One of the women Whipp had put me in touch with, Mary Monahan, galvanized as many Toback survivors as she could get in touch with and started the arduous process of finding a lawyer who would take on our case pro bono. Nix Patterson welcomed us with open arms.
Whipp ultimately heard from nearly 400 women who had accusations regarding Toback. Of those 400, 100 were game for this trial. Of that number, 45 met the specific criteria for pursuing Toback legally, and 40 agreed to testify.
The lawyers were fantastic from the get-go, and if anyone could aid us win this case, it was them. But Toback proved to be evasive, and the discovery process was complicated. Almost three years in, it felt like Toback might get off scot-free. An update in early 2025, however, surprised us. By the end of January, we had a trial date set and were making arrangements for in-person testimonies.
Married and two kids later, I revisited my journals in preparation for the trial. Many of the issues I had struggled with during the time I met with Toback—and continued to struggle with at the time of the #MeToo movement—were now problems of the past. My self-esteem had greatly improved; the way I purged my anger and disgust found up-to-date outlets; the gratification I derived from controlling every morsel that entered my body had become a burden. Motherhood no doubt changes you.
Even though it had lightened somewhat, however, I still carried the weight of my shame about what had transpired with Toback. I would receive an email from my lawyers with good news, and without fail, the self-flagellating question would emerge: How could an wise, assertive, no-nonsense kind of gal fall for Toback’s lies and manipulations? Could I really take the stand as myself and verbalize—to a room full of strangers—all the horrible things he did and the ways he treated me?
Motherhood has made me a much braver version of myself, especially if something is at stake for my two girls. Of course, I would take the stand, no matter how nervous or humiliated I felt. From the day I chose to bring life into this world, my life ceased to be about me.
I flew to New York because that is what I would have wanted my girls to do. Of course, I hope they never come across another James Toback, but if they should cross paths with a disgusting human, I hope they have a million more role models than I and my millennial crowd had. There is nothing shameful about being manipulated. There is nothing embarrassing about being groomed. I wish everyone understood that shame lives in our secrets, and its burden evaporates the moment you operate your voice.
The most liberating part of my testimony was forming a sisterhood with the women I met while in New York. The other plaintiffs are handsome, wise, successful women who, like me, fell prey to Toback’s empty promises and beguilements. During the trial, we laughed, we cried, we supported each other in all sorts of ways. We connected instantly and joked about the irony of bonding over our core commonality: knowledge of Toback’s sexual proclivities.
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