When I was thinking about this, I initially wanted to let my anger out on your rapist...but he's had enough attention. He's the fallen athlete, the star swimmer, the kid who just made a drunk mistake - or so I've seen in the articles about him. But what were you? What were you to Brock Turner as he drunkenly groped your lifeless body? What were you to Mike Armstrong, Turner's lawyer, as he haughtily asked you personal questions in front of a courtroom, such as, "Do you have a history of cheating?" and, "Did you party a lot at college?" What were you to Aaron Persky, as he looked you in the eye, yet still only sentenced your rapist to three months in jail, to prevent the fragile young man from being "affected" in prison?
I don't care what you were to them - because whatever you are to them isn't good enough to me.
To me, you're a survivor. You're a warrior, a fighter, an inspiration. You've been dragged through Hell, looked the devil in the eye and said "Not today," and came back again.
And I'm sorry for everyone who failed you. I'm sorry the legal system failed you. I'm sorry Brock's parents failed you, when they neglected to teach their son about respect for women.
I wish I could help you, my nameless sister. I wish I could have been there that night as a friend, to make sure you went home safely with me instead of stumbling outside with someone who wanted to harm you. I wish I could have been there to take you to the hospital and stroke your hair in the back of the ambulance. I wish I could have been there when you woke up - you must have been so confused - to help you piece the night together.
It upsets me that you went to a party to have a fun night out, but wound up having the worst night of your life. It upsets me that instead of doing what any decent human being would do and got you into a warm bed, nice and safe, Brock Turner led you outside behind a dumpster and sexually assaulted you. It upsets me that you were dragged through the legal system for a full year, and didn't see justice for your rapist.
You need to know, my friend, that you're so much stronger than anyone I know. You, and every other rape victim, will have more fight in yourselves than others would only dream of having - because you've been taught how to be a survivor, and my dear, you've survived. Although you might not feel like it, you will thrive - I wholeheartedly believe it.
To Brock Turner: you honestly don't deserve my words. But I sincerely hope that someday you see the wrong in your actions and feel the remorse you should have felt the moment you stuck your fingers inside a girl who couldn't say no. I sincerely hope that you've learned, and you teach your future children about the reality of sexual assault and how to respect women. You made a mistake - as everyone does - but the difference is, you didn't own up to it. And a part of me feels pity for you - cold, distasteful pity - that you have to live with the knowledge that you made the conscious decision to rip the innocence from a girl just trying to have a fun night. With a wolfish smile and a malicious glint in your eye, you dry-humped an unconscious body and sent pictures of her naked chest to your friends. Did that make you feel cool? Like you were "one of the guys?" I pity you, Brock Turner. And I hope that one day, you own up to being the rapist you deny that you are.
