has made a candid confession about her lack of confidence in the police should she ever become a victim of rape. The 38 year old TV presenter, who is at the helm of a fresh wave of documentaries including the two-part BBC series Rape On Trial, voiced her concerns: "If somebody raped me, I don't think I would go to the police, which is so bleak and such a disappointing realisation...But in terms of what I've witnessed, I wouldn't feel confident."

Moreover, Dooley highlighted the powerful influence of Gisele Pelicot from France, who endured drug-facilitated sexual assaults by her husband, Dominique Pelicot, and numerous other men from 2011 to 2020. In a conversation with Radio Times, she expressed her admiration: "Obviously, I think she's a f***ing powerhouse," adding, "But I wonder if even she really understands the magnitude of what she's done for other women. Because, with the women I spoke to, the concern was always, 'If I go to the police, will they believe me?' It's one of the few crimes where your credibility is immediately brought into question. The bravery it takes is unbelievable."

The documentary, which took three years to create, tracks the experiences of 23-year-old Jessie, who accuses an ex-boyfriend of rape; 19-year-old Emma, claiming oral rape by a college peer; and 22-year-old Becca, who alleged rape by an individual she had been dating after they engaged in consensual sex earlier the same evening.

As they strive to make their stories count in an overburdened judiciary, these individuals have renounced their legal right to remain anonymous. Once their legal proceedings start, they will be subjected to rigorous cross-examinations, with outcomes occasionally hinging on their testimony alone-a grueling reality where verdicts are often based on the jury's perception, reports .

Stacey remarked: "It's very well documented that we have this problem that's very prolific in the UK where so few cases of reported rape are coming to trial, and so I think all of us (myself, the director and producer) were really keen to cover this subject because we wanted to figure out what it means for real people. The access felt pretty unprecedented, the girls were so very generous with their stories and time, and we definitely didn't take that for granted. We spoke to their family members as well, they didn't have to come forward and be so honest either so we were grateful for that."

A sobering statistic reveals that less than 2% of reported sexual assault cases end in conviction; but for those that reach trial, the conviction rate can surpass 50%. With trials looming, these women realize that their perceived credibility is crucial.

In the documentary's second episode, Becca is advised to refrain from attending court after her testimony, with advice asserting that appearing overly confident could negatively sway her case. Stacey responds to this advice with astonishment, denouncing the notion of conforming to certain demeanour expectations as "wildly outdated to me."

Discussing the documentary as a whole, Stacey remarked: "I hope that the audience take away the magnitude and the scale of the problem, as well as the complications that can arise. My personal opinion is that this is the only crime where immediately there is scepticism surrounding the credibility of the person coming forward. So I think that in itself is very interesting. I hope people find it useful, insightful and that it starts a conversation."

The backlog in England and Wales' crown courts has reached an all-time high, nearly doubling over five years to 73,105 by the end of September last year. Baroness Newlove, the Victims' Commissioner, released a report this month revealing that victims of severe crimes such as rape, murder, and robbery are enduring extensive delays for justice.

Stacey's upcoming series, set to premiere later this week, will also explore topics like shoplifting and Romany Gypsies. She confesses to having shoplifted herself as a teenager around the ages of 13 or 14.

Reflecting on her actions, she said: "Obviously, you look back and think, 'What the f*** was I doing?".