Four hundred and five years before #MeToo took over online, 405 years before Mario Batali and Ken Freidman were accused of assault, 405 years before I was raped, Artemisia Gentileschi, a Italian Baroque painter, was raped by her tutor, Agostino Tassi.

Today, Gentileschi is known equally for her powerful paintings and the seven-month trail in which Gentileschi was tasked with proving her rape. Neither rape nor her talents as a woman artist were rare in 15th century Rome. The fact that there was a trial and that Gentileschi became a well-known artist was. During the trial, Tassi first swore he had never spent time alone with the young painter and then claimed Gentileschi was a prostitute who had seduced him. Gentileschi testified twice, her story staying exactly the same: Tassi locked the door, gaged her, and forced himself on her. When he finally allowed her room to get up, she ran for the knife and drew the smallest amount of blood. Tassi then promised her marriage to ameliorate what had just happened. Knowing that her family’s honor would be questioned, Gentileschi continued sexual relations with her rapist in attempts to avoid shame and disgrace. It was her father who took Gentileschi’s rapist to court, not because of her assault, but because Tassi refused to marry the teenager after all. At the time of her second testimony, Gentileschi wore the rings of a torture device on her fingers. Looking at Tassi, she said, “This is the ring that you give me, and these are your promises.” As the lie detector permanently damaged her fingers, she cried out, “It is true, it is true.”

In the end, Tassi was found guilty due to various previous allegations against him. Although Tassi never actually served his sentence and regardless of the gossip that swilled around her, Gentileschi continued to paint and have a successful career. Her paintings, viewed as feminist masterpieces now, often depict strong women and retell stories where women inflict violence upon men. One such story is that of Judith and Holofernes. Judith, a widow desired by Holofernes, an Assyrian general, is invited to “lie with [him].” Judith brings honey pancakes that her maid made with the addition of extra salt to make a thirsty general drink more wine. Once he passes out, Judith decapitates him. The scene is depicted many times in the art canon. Gentileschi also captured the moment just after the act. A candle illuminates Judith’s striking yellow dress, a shade of yellow that became known as “Artemisia gold.” Disregarded by historians, Gentileschi and her use of color, light, and emotion were forgotten until her work was rediscovered in the 20th century. But it was the account of her rape that brought her out of obscurity. Her artistry existed despite of her rape and her artistry strengthened her after it.