At the time of writing this editorial (in June 2020), the world is in the grip of a deadly and disruptive pandemic, yet also remains in a period of profound cultural transformation. In the past few years, #BlackLivesMatter and #MeToo have established prominent social movements that have forced many to reckon with the extent of systemic and discriminatory violence in society. We are hopeful for a better future because of the work of those who have been exposing and confronting racism, sexual violence, and institutional betrayal.Unfortunately, however, there continues to be those who actively disbelieve the pervasive harms of violence. For instance, as powerful, public testimonies of sexual violence have continued to proliferate since #MeToo's 2017 surge in awareness, unfortunately so too have calls to readily deny, discredit, and disbelieve such testimonies. Such a response has the potential to cause further harm and remains one of the primary villains to vanquish in the fight against sexual violence. How best can scholars not only document the extent of violence and the scale of its effects, but actively question and dismantle these persistent, oppressive systems of reflexive disbelief?A recent popular approach to address such disbelief has been to directly implore others (through social media or otherwise) to #BelieveWomen. Emerging from the larger success of #MeToo, #BelieveWomen confronts a familiar trend in sexual violence -a male perpetrator assaults a female victim, and when she comes forward, she is less likely to be believed than the male perpetrator. #BelieveWomen demands that we reverse this pattern and flip the standard response on its head.At face value, #BelieveWomen is appealing in many ways. In addition to being parsimonious and "catchy," the slogan provides a directive with radical potential. The sweeping call to trust women's narratives without question overcorrects for a world in which women have suffered from profound CONTACT Jennifer Freyd