To My Sexual Abuser
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Politics and Activism

To My Sexual Abuser

You are not alone.

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To My Sexual Abuser
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I don’t dare call you by your real name, because to me, you do not have one. You will not be referred in this article as your name because you simply do not deserve it. It has been nearly 12 years since this has happened, so why am I still crying over it? I was only a little girl, scared beyond her wits of what was happening. I was only a kid. I couldn't have been older than 6 or 7; not even old enough to know exactly what you were doing to me.

You know that feeling you had as a kid when you did something, and you know that it was bad, but you went ahead and did it anyway? Maybe your parents told you that you couldn’t have any more cookies until after dinner, but you still went in the cookie jar and ate some. You probably still had that feeling that this was a completely bad idea and that you shouldn’t do it, but you did it anyway. I had that feeling every time it happened.

Every time you took me into my grandmother’s room, I had that feeling that I shouldn’t be doing this. That this was not playing. But you told me that this was another game. And you stuck that into my head – that this was all a cool and fun game. But where was the fun? You stuck it into my head that I couldn’t tell my dad, my mom, or my grandmother. You told me that this was our little game and our little secret that we couldn’t tell anyone. I still remember a few times a day, you’d take us into our grandmother’s room and lay me down right beside her wooden dresser. I shouldn’t be 19 years old and still vividly remembering this, but I do. I remember you being on top of me and breathing heavily onto my face. I still remember the pain that you put me through; both physically and emotionally.

No mother should ever have to get a call from the school and hear her daughter saying that her very own cousin -- blood relative, best friend during her childhood -- sexually assaulted her when she was just a little girl. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

When I look back at it, I have many regrets. I wish that I had told someone so much sooner. And no, not for my sake. For the sake of so many other girls out there that he could have possibly done this to. We were only kids at the time, so they could have at least given him counseling – something to help him with the obvious demons that he has inside of him. But because I didn’t tell anyone until much later, they had no proof that it happened except for my word against his. Now, he could do this to other women. He did it with no difficulty to his own little cousin who was only 7 years old, so he would have no problem doing it to anyone else.

I don’t have much advice to anyone who has gone through this or anything similar. All I can say is that you are truthfully not alone. My story may not be as vivid or graphic, but it’s still a story. It’s still something that unfortunately passes through my mind every once in a while. So if you have ever gone through this, just know that it truly does get better. There will come a day where it will get better and it will get easier. The road will not always be this bumpy; it will get smoother soon and you’ll be glad that you didn’t pull over when you had the chance.

I never got that peace from my abuser. I've never heard him apologize, he was never arrested, charged, or even put in handcuffs because of what he did to me. Everyone says that it's important to forgive and forget the people who did you wrong. So do I forgive him? Honestly, I'm not sure. There will probably come a time where I will in fact forgive him for what he did to me. But will I forget? Definitely not. It is so vivid and stuck in my mind that I can never forget it.

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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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