I Survived To Tell The Tale: An open letter to my abuser

Let me hope that your children haven’t had to face monsters like you in their lives. Oh yes! What irony, right? My monster is their father.


Representational image
Pic – Mitya Ku | Flickr

Dear Abuser(s),

I am positive that you are happy. You have a blissful life, don’t you?

Do you know me? Do you remember me? Or are you wondering “who is this”? If you do remember me, you might be wondering where did I emerge from?

Let me explain. I am just fine. I wasn’t so fine though, for a long long time. In my head and heart, that is.

I grew up like any other child you know. Maybe like your own children. Or maybe not. Let me hope that your children haven’t had to face monsters like you in their lives. Oh yes! What irony, right? My monster is their father.

So yes, I was saying – I grew up with you as my inner demon. Every time life gave me something nice and good, I could never accept it with grace. When I had happiness, I felt guilty. When I had sadness, I felt deserving. When I got applauded for something, you, my monster roared within me.

Do you remember touching me? How old was I? 5? 6? I can’t remember your face as much as I remember the feeling I went through. What did you gain out of touching me where you had no business to even think of? You found sexual gratification? You reached nirvana? Please help me understand. You had all the trust of my family. And this is what you gave their daughter in return? Think about it, if you haven’t already.

For a long long time, I wanted the answer to, “Why me?” Thanks to you, I never felt worthy. Have you ever felt that? If not, do not worry. It is coming your way. Heard of Karma? It comes in a full circle.

Today, when I am in the beginning of my fourth decade in this world – I am at peace. Not because I have cursed you. Not because I have hurt you back. But because I can live through flashes of moments thinking of you and not feel the pain.

You lived in me as my demon until I turned 25. And then when I let you out, my family did not believe. That hurt me all the more. But then, an unknown power told me to not break. And I did not. But you’d left a scar in me, hadn’t you? I wonder how many more you scarred. I wonder how many others would like to write a letter like this to you.

As I write this letter I pray that you wake up from your sleep. I do not pray that your children question you. I do not pray that your family abandon you. But I pray that you be your own demon. I pray for you to be unable to look into the mirror, for having scarred a childhood. I hope your actions turn out to be your demons. I hope they haunt you. I wish you woke up with a heavy and fluttering heart that you think will break in inside your chest, the way I have felt a zillion times. It is only fair, isn’t it?

Have I forgotten my abuse? No, I haven’t. Have I forgiven the abuser? Yes, I have. For, there isn’t a revenge as sweet as forgiveness.

Take care, for you have lots in store.

The author lives in Bangalore with her husband and 4-year-old daughter. 

Read other stories of child sexual abuse survivors in The Alternative’s I Survived To Tell The Tale series.


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