These are two letters addressed to recipients who will never receive them. Ashamed and scared, I kept these stories hidden from the rest of the world, including even those closest to me. I attempted to repress my emotions, hoping that if I told no one I could pretend it wasn’t real.
Dear B.,
You were the first to taint my innocence. You struck at a time when my self-confidence had dropped to a point in which I felt worthless. With no friends to support me, I fell into your trap. You complimented me, gave me attention, and made me feel wanted. Soon, though, you changed. Suddenly, I was worthless again-unless I did what you said. Although you weren’t physically here, you still found ways to use me for your gratification. You liked me, so that meant I had to do whatever you wanted, right? That’s what a good girl should do, you told me. You told me what to send, and I shamefully listened. When I cried and begged not to, you began the emotional manipulation. I was a bitch, a slut, a whore, you said, despite the fact that I had never so much as kissed a boy. If I couldn’t make you happy, you were going to find a new girl, one that I could never compare to. You said that if I left, no one else would want me. You reminded me that I had no friends, but you took it even farther, and you drilled into my brain that no one liked me, no one cared about me, and I should be thankful that I had you. So, I succumbed to your requests, despite the fact that it filled me with disgust. How, I wondered, could you enjoy seeing me with tears streaming down my face? How could you enjoy destroying my self-confidence? When I said I refused to send any more pictures, you began to threaten me. You now had pictures of me that I wanted no one to see, and you used it to your advantage. All you had to do was post one of those pictures, and my young life would be ruined. Eventually, I couldn’t take the mistreatment any longer. I was giving and giving, and getting nothing in return. I realized you were a coward. With great satisfaction, I told you I would no longer be your puppet. I would no longer use my body to make YOU happy.
If I could choose to remove anyone from the history of my life, it would be you, B. I often think if it weren’t for you, there would never have been A.
Dear A.,
You were forceful from the beginning, but after B, that’s what I was used to. Your overconfidence contradicted my lack of confidence, making me feel that you were superior to me. You knew the “cool guy” act well, and felt content blowing me off-you thought your time was much too valuable for me, I’m sure. You knew I was inexperienced sexually, and you saw that as a challenge. But you took it too far that night in your bedroom. I was now comfortable kissing you, and you, much stronger than my 100 pound frame, flipped me onto my back. I was a little scared, but I didn’t think you would take advantage of me-I trusted you. Suddenly I felt a pressure between my legs, one that I had never felt before, and I knew my worst fear had come true-you tried to do something that I had told you many, many times I was not ready for. I told you our relationship was over, and you did not seem to like rejection. You were persistent, and I felt obligated to forgive someone who would try so hard to win me back. Only someone who cared about me would try that hard, I thought. But, back in your bedroom, it happened again. You had tried to do this with me before, but this time, I could tell you weren’t taking no for an answer. You were on top of me, pinning my hands down. I repeatedly said “no” and “stop.” I said it wasn’t going to happen-but you told me it was. You kept trying to force your way inside of me, and I managed to stop you, but after a while, a feeling of hopelessness washed over me and I felt that the only way to get out of this room was to give in. So I did, and the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain I felt immediately after. I cried most of the night. I felt dirty, used, and like I now had no value. I couldn’t date someone else, because who would want me now, I wondered? You had me exactly where you wanted, and you used for one thing. The only thing you thought I was worth. I remember the day you left for college. You could only hang out for about half an hour, just enough time for you to do what you wanted. I was in tears, but you didn’t care. You took me up to your room, that room with so many bad memories, and pushed me onto your bed. You laid me on my stomach and got behind me, and the image of me lying there, tears falling down my cheeks and onto your pillow while you had your way with me, is still burned into my memory. Then, as if you hadn’t just been cruel enough, you sent me out of your house with no attempt to comfort me, because your friends were on their way over for a party. How anyone could have such little sympathy, I still don’t understand.
As much as I wish I never had to experience these things, everything that has happened in my life has lead me to my current relationship, which I am thankful for every day. He is the one who helped me realize I deserved better. I’m stronger now for having overcome these situations, and I will not be used by a man again.
— Anonymous
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