To The Woman Who Married My Rapist, Did He Tell You About Me?
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To The Woman Who Married My Rapist, Did He Tell You About Me?

I do hope you have a peaceful and happy life.

To The Woman Who Married My Rapist, Did He Tell You About Me?

I wonder if you remember me.

We were never friends, but we were acquaintances. We went to neighboring colleges and we ran with mutual friends.

When I met you, I assumed you would be just another friend of some friends who would have no impact in my life what so ever. Little did I know years from that moment you would send my mind into a frenzy and resurface all the feelings and pain I thought I had buried. You were just the girl who hung out with my dance mates and now.

But today you're the girl that married my rapist.

Your husband and I were friends.

We had hung out many times and studied together during our undergraduate years. He was someone I trusted and I guess you do too, that's why you married him. I was a senior in college when he decided to break my trust and steal a part of me I will never get back.

He caused me tremendous pain: physically, emotionally, and psychologically.

I trusted he would be my friend when I needed him to but, instead, he took advantage of me. He left me broken, devastated, and frightened when I woke up and discovered the unthinkable truth. That was one of the worst nights of my life.

Your husband raped me.

How ironic is it that the man that has and will give you the most memorable and best moments in your life has scarred me with a nightmare I'm still living and the worst moment of my life.

I talked to many people about living with trauma and how to overcome it, but no one warned me how degrading watching the success of your rapist would be.

Nobody prepared me for the future of my rapist.

To me, he was dead to me the night he forced himself on me. The night he didn’t listen to me tell him no. The night that he may not even remember but the night that I’ll never be able to forget. I ignored his existence on campus. I pretended I never knew him. I never thought I would have to see his accomplishments, his dreams fulfilled, his happiness flaunted in front of me, not so soon at least.

His life continued while I was left behind to clean up the epic disaster of what my life became. Deep down I knew that even though my life died in that moment, his did not. I was stuck there, in that moment with his stupid smell lingering around, one that I’ll never be able to get out of my head.

And him?

Well he was out and about flawlessly executing every next move and accomplishment in his life.

Instead of turning to authorities and reporting your husband for raping me, I foolishly kept my mouth shut, protecting him from having his world crumble around him. Why? Because everyone told me, that nothing good would come from me opening my mouth. I would never defeat him. His word would always be greater than mine. I saw him continuously succeed while I continuously failed. When I could barely drag myself out of bed to go to class, I saw him working his way to getting his Physical Therapy degree.

When I stopped participating in the things I love: dancing, spending time with my friends, going out, laughing, and simply being myself; I watched him carry on with the things and people he loved most like nothing had ever changed. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and every day I had to force myself to pretend life was peachy because no one understood what I was feeling or going through.

No one really knew because I kept my mouth shut so he could have this life that you're so happily enjoying with him now. I lost everything about me and my own life while I watched him get everything he wants and not have to pay for his actions.

I suffered and I paid the price for what he did to me.

I still remember the sickening feeling that ran through my bones as I scrolled through my Instagram feed and saw countless posts of your engagement to one another. I couldn't breathe. How did my rapist manage to find true love before I did? How was he more lovable than I was? Why did he deserve this moment?

I felt every emotion in the book. I was angry and hurt and sad. I also felt guilty, guilty that I didn't speak up and that you were now engaged and would soon marry my rapist. I felt sick to my stomach for days.

Do I tell you the truth or not? Do I continue to keep my mouth shut? Was I doing the right thing? Will I ever stop putting everyone's happiness before my own? Did he tell you? Do you even really know him, the ugly truth about him? Did you look past the truth and marry him anyway?

You are literally living my worst nightmare.

My biggest fear has become to unknowingly marrying a rapist myself. I've encountered so many in my life. I'm not sure if I made the right decision but you seemed happy. What an utterly sickening feeling that was for me, to see a woman happy with my rapist. What is even more terrifying is to know that there is probably so many people out there married to someone else's rapist.

I thought I could ignore the feeling and act like this wasn't happening.

But, last week, the feelings came rushing back when I scrolled past pictures of your husband dressed as a groom ready to make you his bride. I felt sicker than sick and I hurled. Whatever decision I wanted to make, I was too late and the decision was made for me. I was bound to keep my lips sealed forever now. You had already married my rapist and there was no going back.

God, that picture of him smiling dressed as a groom shattered me to pieces.

He left me so broken and with so many issues yet finding you and marrying you seemed to come so easily for him. I developed trust issues so severe, I stopped trusting myself. I developed intimacy issues so deep, I learned to cringe and run at the slightest sign of intimacy. I developed commitment issues so strong that I went from being the girl who wanted to get married and start a family as soon as possible to the girl who would never be loved or married.

Cold tears running down my hot face and hidden grief have found their way to the surface and learned to tug at my strengths dragging me down, time to time. I am reminded these days that I am not quite there yet and maybe I never fully will be. I am still on my journey to recovery. I am still trudging up this mountain, wrestling with the dark. I am still struggling with shutting down and building up my walls when someone gets too close or shows an interest in the real me. I am still struggling with allowing a man in my life, with allowing myself to find healthy love. I fight away the coldness, the toe-curling distress, the hair-raising anger, and the sorrow because no one told me what it would be like to watch my rapist be happy.

Truly happy, something I am still fighting to discover on my own.

There is nothing more I want than for you to understand this pain and sickly feeling in my gut. A part of me wants to know what kind of person you are. If you do know, are you standing by him and the cowardly decision he made, and if you don't know, are you ready to hear the truth about your darling husband?

Whether or not you know you married a rapist, I do hope you have a peaceful and happy life, wherever it takes you.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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