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Open Letter to My Abuser

I’m just starting to realize it wasn’t my fault.

By Mina LeAnnPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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You probably haven’t thought about me at all in the past five years, but I think about you constantly. And the more I think about you, the more time that passes, I begin to realize that you were the awful one and not me.

Everything you did led up to that Thanksgiving, but everything before that was just as bad. You spent a whole year grooming me. Earning my trust. Manipulating me into believing that I actually had a say in anything. But I didn’t; I was a child. You made me believe that you actually loved me and so why would I ever tell anyone about you when you convinced me they would take you away from me? They should’ve taken you away from me.

The thing was you knew I’d be easy to take advantage of. I had intense daddy issues and the poor self-worth to match. You could practically smell it on me the first time we met. You were a predator and I was injured prey; you didn’t even have to work to catch me. And that’s why I never actually mattered to you. All that mattered was getting what you wanted and you knew that I would be more than willing to give it to you. It didn’t matter that I was only 14 and had just barely started high school when you finally took advantage of me and even younger when you began manipulating me. It didn’t matter that you were already an adult when we met.

You made me feel bad for you. You had an addict for a mother who didn’t even know who your father was. You were raised in the foster system, and you were even abused by a foster father. And that made it OK every time you hurt me. It even made it OK that you had a drug addiction. I have always been the kind of person who just wants to take care of other people and you took advantage of that. And now I don’t even know how much of your story was true.

By the time that Thanksgiving came around, I was so wrapped around your finger I would’ve done anything for you. You had molded me into exactly what you needed to get whatever you wanted and made sure I would never want to tell anyone.

I told you that night that I was uncomfortable and unsure, and you told me that it was because I was inexperienced and it would be fine. And it’s true, I was inexperienced, so I didn’t recognize that as the lie that it was. I let you do what you wanted and put your hands where you wanted and didn’t know what to do.

I told you the next day that I felt awful about it, and you told me I felt that way because I had cheated on my boyfriend at the time. When I argued that you were the one who initiated everything, you spun it around and convinced me it was my fault. And I believed you. I was wearing leggings and a tank top for bed. I did agree to have you sleep next to me. I did agree to all your promises about our future. Promises you never intended to keep.

I told you the following week that I was still very uncomfortable with what had happened and wasn’t sure it should’ve happened. You got angry with me. Said it was my fault because I never told you to stop and how could you know that I didn’t want you when I agreed to everything we did. And then you continued to convince me that it was OK because it’s not like we even had sex so what did I have to be so upset about?

But I've since realized that I never cheated; I was assaulted. You were almost 20 and had no business putting your hands and mouth on a child. Whether I knew to say no or not had nothing to do with it. Whether we had sex or not had nothing to do with it. Where you put your hands and the way you kissed me was already not OK. And it was never my fault despite what you made me believe for the past five years.

relationships
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About the Creator

Mina LeAnn

welcome to my page! i write mostly about eating disorders and other mental illnesses. thank you for taking the time to read my work

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