Dear __________,

I've written this letter in my head dozens of times. I've even managed to get it down on paper a few. But I decided that tonight would be the night I pulled the trigger and said what I haven't been able to say for more than ten years now.

Congratulations, you got away with it.

I come from a good family, in a good part of town. I did well in school, I attended church, and even picked up one or two extracurricular activities. That, I suppose, is what made me the perfect target. No one would suspect that I could be being abused. No one suspected that someone who was supposed to love and protect me, could turn around and damage me for life.

But you did.

I was too scared to tell people. By the grace of God, I worked up the courage to tell the one person I felt I could trust. They ended up being my savior. Because of them, you got caught and were forced to stop hurting me. You even had to seek outside help. But here's what really kills me -

You have never, and will never, have to answer for what you did.

Because I was so young, and because people who loved me didn't want me traumatized any further, this got swept under the rug. For years, you maintained that what you did to me wasn't abuse. "You weren't abused. It's not like you left the house covered in bruises" you would say to me. You desperately maintained your innocence, and over time, I genuinely believe you convinced yourself that you were - that you are innocent. You aren't.

Every day I notice the lasting effects of the things you did to me. The words you screamed at me, things I can't repeat, ring in my ears. Certain sounds - the jangling of your belt, make my stomach twist in knots. The objects you threatened me with, the ones I still have to look at, I want to burn them. I want to burn every memory of what you did to me right out of my brain. But I can't. I jump at raised voices, I say yes more often than I should because of the fear of people being angry at me. I find myself recoiling at even the most loving of touches. This is all because of you. It took two separate counselors before I even had the courage to tell them my real story. All because I was terrified they wouldn't believe me, that no one would believe me.

For years, I found myself feeling guilty for being angry with you, even for hating you. "Why can't you just get over it?" I would ask myself over and over. But through my journey, I learned two things.

1. No matter how long ago the abuse occurred, you will never just "get over it."

2. I should not feel guilt over what you did to me.

It was not my fault. I was a child, You had the responsibility to make me feel safe. You failed. I refuse to take responsibility for your actions.

So yes, this is my letter outing you. The people who read this may or may not know who you are. I refuse to put your name in this letter not for your sake, but for mine. I want you to know that despite the fact you got away with what you did, I refuse to live my life as a victim. I will come out of this stronger, and closer to God no matter how long it takes me.

Because of your actions, I found myself contemplating suicide more than once. But then - you would win. I've made some decisions for myself about the kind of person I'm going to be. I will not end up like you. I am stronger and despite all of the pain you caused me, I made a decision. One of the first decisions I was ever able to make for myself. I decided that I would not let your treatment of me, be an excuse for the way I treat others. Why? Because it's my choice! I refuse to become you. To hurt others the way that you hurt me. I will rise above what you did to me, and use my experiences to help others. Our behavior is a choice. And I will not make the same choices you did.

I will commend you for making efforts to make yourself better. You can't truly help others until you have addressed your own needs. However, sooner or later you're going to need to extend your efforts in order to acknowledge the ways you hurt me. Because I deserved better than what you did to me. And I'm strong enough to know that now.

Someday, I really want to have a relationship. It's not going to be easy though, and you're going to have to take responsibility for these things that you'd rather pretend never happened. Honestly, I wish I could pretend they never happened too. But we both know the truth, and someday, you're going to have to make the first move and say you're sorry. Because I do love you. Despite the seven circles of Hell you put me through, I love you.

To be honest, I wasn't sure exactly where I was going with this letter, Emotions can be crazy things, and I knew that even if I had mapped out this letter to a T before I wrote it, it would end up wherever my heart took me.

So to my abuser,

I will come out of this stronger, and more prepared for life than you could have ever expected. But that isn't thanks to you, it's in spite of you. I need you to know that despite every attempt to tear me down, I have made the choice to come out stronger and be the better person. More than anything, despite all the Hell you put me through, I still love you. I think I always will. But I still need you to take responsibility for the things you did to me. I need closure, and you're the only one who can give it. I won't keep my hopes up, but if/when you decide you want to rebuild our relationship, you know where to find me.

Oh, and dear abuser?

I win.