Dear Brock Turner,

I'm writing to you on behalf of all the sexual assault survivors, whose rapists never saw a jail cell. On behalf of all the sexual assault survivors who never saw justice. I want to know, how many beers have you shotgunned, how many ribeye steaks have you eaten since you were released from jail?

You were innocent until proven guilty, you were an All American Swimmer. In court, you were given the benefit of the doubt, and the woman you preyed on? She was given absolutely nothing. A run through the mud, a process of revictimization.

Explain to me how you can look at yourself in the mirror, how you can talk and connect with your friends, how you can live your life, knowing that you completely destroyed someone else's.

I suppose you have no issues getting on with your life, seeing as you blamed your own actions on everything in the world besides yourself. I mean really, it's pathetic. You blamed the air, it was cold and it gave you an erection. The alcohol, it altered your state of mind and forced you to rip an unconscious woman's clothes off of her body. You blame the woman, she wasn't awake to say no, so that must mean yes.

Here is the thing about rapists like you, they commit a crime, but they do not acknowledge it as a crime. They cry to their lawyers that they didn't mean to do it, that they didn't realize what they were doing and their lawyers fight for them. And the worst part is, the judge's actually fall for it. They say "Well he is young, he has a future, we can't ruin his future by putting him in jail." But when someone commits a murder and they tell their lawyer that they didn't mean to do it, that they were in the wrong state of mind, does the judge listen? Damn right he doesn't.

Now, I don't know the woman who you raped, Brock. But I know that I have been where she has been. Brock, I am going to tell you a little bit about my story. Because I know you think your life has been ruined. But I think you should be enlightened on how your 20 minutes of action destroyed someone's life forever.

When I was 14, I was sexually assaulted by a rapist just like you. I'm not here to tell you the details, I'm not here to explain to you what it was like being conscious during the event. I'm simply here to tell you about the aftermath. Because now It's been five years, I'm 19, soon to be twenty. And I'm still alive. But it hasn't been easy, Brock.

When a woman is raped, she goes through a stage of denial. A stage of waking up in the morning and telling herself, "No, that didn't happen". She then internalizes the rape, she doesn't tell anyone, her friend's ask about the bruises on her throat and she lies and says they are hickeys, because she is too embarrassed to tell them the truth, she is too ashamed.

Then days later she cracks, she tells her friend who lives in a different state, because she thinks her secret will be safe with her. But it isn't. Her friend is worried, she calls the girl's school and reports a sexual assault. Then everything unfolds on the table.

The next day there is a "detective" at her small town house, cops are asking her what happened, they are asking her to give a statement. She is afraid, she is tripping over her words, she is nervous. The cop asks her to describe the assault in detail, to tell him directly that "He inserted his penis into my vagina". All the while, re-victimizing her, forcing her to live the events over and over again. They take photos of the bruises on her neck, they take her pillows, her blankets, the underwear she wore that night. She takes a shower that night and she cannot look at her body, she is too afraid.

In court, they say her story has too many holes. His father, the lawyer, says that the victim is lying, she wanted to have sex with him. She feels her blood boiling as she tries to explain to them that she changed her mind, that she did not consent, that she was vulnerable, 14 years old, and he was 17. She's shaking, her knees buckle. But it doesn't matter to them. A court order for a restraining order is all she see's. He leaves school for good, and everyone targets her, she forced him out the door, she caused his life to turn to shambles, she ruined him. She is a liar, a slut, a cry for attention.

The next year of her life is a blur, she loses all of her friends at school, she cannot look at herself in the mirror because she hates what she sees. She wishes she kept her mouth shut, she wishes she had never left her house that night. She wears baggy clothes because she feels safe that way. She cannot hug her mother, her father, her brother. She cannot be touched by anyone anymore, the doctor touches her and she flinches, she's surrounded by fear.

And he isn't, he is safe, he is off the hook, he is living his life just like you are Brock. And it has been 5 years, and I still think about it every day. I still relive the entire experience every September. And I have become so much stronger than I have ever been because I survived and I overcame the pain that resonated in me for so many years.

So what I'm trying to say Brock, is that your victim is the one who will live her life in fear for many years to come, and she has to rebuild every single aspect of what her life was before the rape. You will move away, find a new place for yourself in this world and you don't have any rebuilding to do.

But someday, the universe will come for you, and you will eventually get what you deserve. A three month jail sentence for a rapist is not nearly justice, but I am sure that justice will find you someway, somehow.

Sincerely,

A Rape Survivor.