Dear Rapist,
You probably don’t even remember me. But I remember you.
It was a warm summer night. I looked like any other girl out on the boulevard. Only you knew what I did for a living. You stopped and picked me up like you were going to be my first customer of the night. But things went wrong.
Terribly wrong.
You took something that wasn’t yours. When you raped me, you might have thought I deserved it. Since I was a prostitute anyway. But I was still a person. I might have made poor choices but I didn’t deserve to be raped.
Do you know how scared I was?
You might think I’d grown used to being raped and scared. Just because I was another man’s property doesn’t mean I wasn’t terrified. When you wouldn’t let me get out of the car I disappeared. Not literally, but in my mind. I had to. Couldn’t be “present” while you were doing such horrific things to my body.
Do you know the shame I’ve lived with as a result of you raping me? For years I felt dirty, used, broken, ashamed, hopeless. Like I was damaged goods. What man would ever want me now? I was so dirty. I hated myself for what you did to me.
Why didn’t I fight you? Why didn’t I try to run? I just froze. Just sat there. Like a bump on a log. Fight, flight or freeze. That’s what my therapist told me. I froze. Like a helpless animal. Scared and shaking in a corner. Like a dog that’d been kicked one too many times. I just froze. For years I’ve felt angry at myself for not moving. Frozen. Why didn’t I fight!
There’s no telling how many girls you’ve raped.
Maybe you didn’t steal my virginity, but it still counts.
But I refuse to drink the poison of unforgiveness. That would only hurt me. I forgive you but I hope I never have to see you again. Forgiving doesn’t mean I have to spend time with you. You are not a safe person.
I pray you have accepted Jesus Christ as your savior.
I pray you aren’t in a self-prison of unforgiveness.
One day we will all answer for the choices we have made. That means you too.
Dear Anonymous,
Oh dear one, my heart cries for you. Hard to believes people can treat people so harshly. I am so thankful for your words, “I refuse to drink the poison of unforgiveness.” No matter the situations in each of our lives, may we remember your story and apply that same forgiveness to our own situations. Thank you for this awesome example of how Jesus calls us to forgive even those who hurt. Forgiveness is for ourselves — beautiful truth here!!
Dear Reader,
Are you harboring unforgiveness towards someone who has hurt you? If so, please read and reread the beautiful story above. Forgiveness is for you, not the abuser!
To grasp this 31day series and to view the previous letters click here.Would you like to submit a Dear Anonymous letter? Click here for how.Download Alene’s FREE eBook “Giving Up Normal” by clicking here.
Lisa says
I can’t even begin to imagine the feeling of helplessness in that situation….Wow, such a horrible experience. You probably froze because it might have seemed like the easiest way to preserve your life. Bless you for offering forgiveness in a difficult situation. You will be blessed for that.
karen says
The hopelessness of shame is not to be undone by the Healing Grace of our God, for you, dear anonymous Sister. Your beauty is what defines you, not the shame your captor put upon your life.. Your present days, reborn in Christ, are leading you much stronger as a woman, and I pray you will receive His fullness of Love filling your heart this very day as the tears of your past are now wiped away..
Leah Adams says
Sweet mercy! I cannot even imagine. Precious one, I am touched by not only your letter, but your willingness to forgive. May you continue to find healing and wholeness.