(Severe Trigger Warning)
Do you know me? Do you know me at all? The twelve years between our ages would be enough to not really know each other – you were married and out of the house by the time I was 8 or so. But there is another reason I don’t think you know me – you molested me. The truth is – you don’t know me at all!
You don’t know that you took that innocent little girl and turned her into a fragile, heart-broken shell, no longer a human being but rather a lost soul. I have to wonder if you have retained all the detailed memories that my mind has somehow lost, the ones my mind has decided to protect me from? I have bits and pieces and I want you to know that, to this day, they will rip me apart if I let the memory seep in. If a memory starts in my head, triggered by something around me, I have to say, “No! I am not going to think about that!” Sometimes I can push the memory away and other times my heart breaks yet again.
You know what I really hate? I hate that of what I do remember, you didn’t touch or do things to me, you always had me do them to you! To me, in an unimaginable way, you were so selfish. You used me. Do you know what it does to me to think that not even you wanted me!? Do you know how messed up that is? Do you know that you set me up for a life of believing I will never be loved and that no one will ever truly want me? That I am only something to be used and then discarded?
And I do feel like you discarded me, in so many ways. Even today, you seem to think I am an uninformed and unintelligent person – that’s how you talk to me anyway. The only compliment I have received from you was when you mistakenly thought you were texting with our sister instead of me! You don’t give me credit for being anything on my own. Do you know that I am actually a very intelligent person? I have an IQ of 140, tested multiple times. I have more empathy, understanding and insight into people than you could ever possible know or imagine.
When you were molesting me, hurting me, did you know that it would have lasting effects? That it was creating, molding my personality? Did you know that your short-term self-gratification would create long-term, life-long issues for me? Did you even care? Was there ever a moment in your mind where you realized that the naked little girl next to you was a person and didn’t deserve what you were doing to her? Were you ever even afraid to get caught? Did you ever even think?
Even though a part of me somehow loves you, I want you to know that I hate you as well. I hate that you have never taken true responsibility for what you did to me. I hate that you never had to pay for it. I hate that you have a career in a field dealing with children. I hate that you are successful while I struggle every day to battle the wounds and scars that YOU gave me. I hate that I am looked upon as the messed up one. I hate that our family values you, the molester, more than me, your victim. I hate that they protected you and I hate that by them doing so, it so belittled me.
You, my dear brother, taught that little girl that she was worthless, that she was meant merely to be a pawn and a toy for others. You taught her denial, insecurity, distrust, self-hate. You taught her to look for love in all the wrong places and to allow herself to be used over and over again. That’s what you taught her, that helpless, little girl. But me? Your actions taught me to be strong, to question, to fight! You taught me that I am more than what others have done to me or what others think of me. I take that back – you didn’t teach me those things – I did! I found my strength, my courage, my light. I uncovered the good things inside me that you buried all those years ago.
So, do you know me? No – you don’t me at all because I am no longer that little girl whose voice you silenced and whose heart you squeezed dry in your dirty hands. That little girl has far since been left behind. Who you see before you now is a strong, intelligent, compassionate woman who has much to offer this world.
You are lucky my dear brother – I could have ripped your life apart. I hope that’s in the back of your mind somewhere…