Up until this point, only those closest to me know of the trying times that you put me through. Most of them offered abundant amounts of support, but at the same time, those people who I thought were my best friends scoffed and rolled their eyes with victim blaming fingers pointed right at me, like daggers going through my chest. People told me I would forget, yet I did not. I remember. I remember the clothes you wore. I remember exactly what corner of the classroom you shoved me into. Of all places to take advantage of a younger and naive me you chose a place where I felt safe, but now feel nauseous every time I drive by the building. I was weak, so scared that my limp arms could not even be lifted in an attempt to push you away. I tried to call for help, yet you muffled my terrified whimpers with forced kisses. You thought you were just having a little fun messing around with an innocent twelve-year-old girl. I thought my life would never be the same. I was right. You may have had your fun during the few short minutes that felt like agonizing hours, but you ruined me for years to come.
I didn’t tell anyone for days for fear of being ridiculed, but my parents were there with their shoulders out for me to cry on. Even after initially telling them, I waited weeks before I told my best friend. I was never scared to tell her anything, but your face lingered in my mind causing me to hide the truth. My parents and best friend were overwhelmingly full of support. Everyone else that found out through the grapevine, however, were not. They asked me what I wore, what did that even matter? The length of my skirt should not have been the reason for your abuse. Yet, eight years later I question every day if there was something I could have done to prevent it.
You caused me to fear boys my age. You caused me to fear older guys when I grew into an adult. You caused me to feel wariness when a boy said they liked me. Should I trust him? Or will he turn out just like you, a fake friend? You caused me to fear to be alone. I used to love being alone. I used to love going on runs to clear my head. Now, at nearly twenty years old, I am never alone for fear of someone like you attacking me.
You have caused strain in my relationships. Your snarky smirk is plastered in my brain forever making me question if I should trust the people around me. I thought you were my friend, but that was far from the truth. I was wrong. I fear to be wrong with every new guy I meet through mutual friends on my college campus.
Although you have caused me heartache and took some of the things I valued most away from me, I am here to forgive you for the first time in eight years. I suffered emotional hell that no twelve years old should ever have to feel. But it made me stronger. It made me the woman that I am today. I have learned to be cautious in my relationships, which may have saved me from even more emotional damage. At the same time that I am forgiving you for what you did, I guess I’m almost thanking you as crazy as it sounds. Without you, I would have never learned that sexual abuse is not the victim's fault. I would have never been careful when it came to guys. You taught me a lesson in the hardest way possible, but I grew from it and I thank you for that.
If you ever see this, just remember me. Remember what you did. And keep that in mind the next time you think it’s a good idea to mess around with someone that can be easily taken advantage of.
man running in forestPhoto by 
