Letter to my Abuser

I will no longer be silenced about what you did to me the night after the wedding and how my life has been altered since.

I tried to go through the correct channels and reach out for help to the women I once called best friends.

Instead of receiving help, I was taken as a joke and told that they didn’t have the emotional space for my “drama”.

I never once got the opportunity to even speak one second of my truth, except to P****, who seemingly altered my story and never checked back in with how I was doing.

It turns out that she only called in the first place because she had to drop my bags off the next day.

Since the incident, I heard nothing but radio silence.

Everyone knew about the abuse.

Not one person reached out to see if I was okay.

When contacting J*** two weeks later, she said that she already knew what happened and had heard many conflicting stories...

Of course except for mine...

Why did something that happened solely between us with no witnesses have conflicting stories?

For God knows what reason, J**** took the path of least emotional resistance by siding with her new husband and with you, asking me, “So Cody is a liar?”

I hope that whatever you said to cover your ass has provided you with some semblance of solace up until this point - I am here to set the record straight.

Over that weekend, you poised yourself as a friend, a non-threat.

You confided in me about the death of your mother, the pain it brought you and the void it left in your heart.

I confided in you about sexual trauma I had faced, and the pain I continue to live through.

Looking back, I now see that opening up about my trauma was your invitation to my vulnerable side.

Do not mistake vulnerability for weakness.

From what you learned about me that weekend, I am a very open person and a free spirit.

Don't ever use that part of me to provide you with any type of excuse for what you did to me, because it is simply inexcusable.

This past year I had put in a concerted effort to focus on myself, seek therapy and engage in healthy activities instead of detrimental ones.

I was sober for over four months, and pushed myself to not feel reliant on substances as a band-aid for my pain.

J**** used this against me, and as a justifiable reason as to why my word wasn’t worth hearing.

Being rejected by my best friend was just the icing on the cake.

The night of the abuse, I was physically exhausted off of a 60 mile week long backpacking trip and mentally exhausted from being racially profiled and bullied by the bridesmaids at the wedding, whom once before protected the woman who continued to call me "Yoko Ono."

As you and the rest of the bridal party know at the Airbnb, I passed out on the couch in the formal living room at the front door, while you and the rest of the party continued to drink in the back.

You came back to me five times after repeatedly begging you to stop when I was floating in and out of consciousness.

You touched and rubbed my nipples.

You had your hands down my pants.

Then you had your hands down my underwear.

You whispered in my ear trying to coax me up to a bedroom.

I feel fucking sick even recounting something I try every day to forget.

I remember telling you to stop.

Every time you came back, I remember physically and verbally pushing you away in my slumber.

I remember trying to push away your hand when you tried to finger me.

I remember everything.

I woke up to the country song you had been playing about your mom on repeat over and over again.

As what had seemed like a nightmare came roaring back into my conscious state, I felt sick to my fucking stomach.

While you cried in that room about your mom with everyone around you consoling you and telling you that they’d always be there, I cried upstairs in the shower, feeling violated and completely alone.

The only memories repeating in my mind was you touching me when I was unconscious, without my permission or right to stand up for myself.

Let me tell you something I never thought I would have to explain.

NEVER TOUCH SOMEONE INAPPROPRIATELY WHEN THEY ARE UNCONSCIOUS.

NEVER TAKE AWAY A WOMANS RIGHT TO MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS ABOUT HER BODY.

As you now know, I took a Lyft home at 1 in the morning even though I was meant to leave that day.

I left my belongings behind, but most importantly, I left a more broken human being.

You can tell the other people that were there whatever the fuck you want, but it is only you and I that truly knows what you did.

You have to live with yourself for the rest of your life knowing- just like I have to live the rest of my life continuing to heal.

No one cared to listen.

No one stood up for me.

People that I considered best friends turned against and ridiculed me for what you did.

You made me feel like a burden to other people.

Not only did you traumatize and sexually abuse me, you made it seem like I was the crazy one.

I lost trust that any decent person would try to do the right thing, not the comfortable thing.

I lost so much of the person I had become to love because of you.

I began to believe that life was no longer worth living, so much so, that in October, I tried to take my own life.

I hate you for making me feel that way.

I hate that your actions took a toll on my physical and mental state.

I hate that you made me hate myself.

After living in darkness for months, I started to pick myself back up.

I took your abuse, broke it down, and have been using bits and pieces to build back stronger pillars and a more realistic foundation of this worlds' reality.

I will no longer be silent about your abuse.

I will no longer continue to feel silenced by the people who knew and did nothing about it.

I will no longer feel like I caused drama over something I had no control over.

I will no longer feel shamed for telling my truth.

I hope one day you can realize yours.