To my Abuser

I’ve reached a new and very special milestone today. I got to a place in which I thought I’ll never get to. It was so meaningful and so emotional at the same time. It was a moment of immense pain, yet at the same time I was overwhelmed with gratitude to God and to myself that I’ve come this far.

I needed to travel out of town for business and I past by one of the schools that I’ve attended as a young teenager. On previous business trips, I’ve avoided that area as I couldn’t bear seeing the building in which you hurt me in so badly.

However, today I felt ready. I parked my car down the block. I got out out of the car and slowly walked up the block. When I reached the school building, I paused for a few long minutes. I stood there in a trance, looking at the place where a young innocent boy was emotionally murdered. I saw the dormitory building that bore witness to so much of my suffering. I saw the walkways that we walked through together every single day. It was on those walks that you showered me with love and groomed me. Standing there, brought up so many vividly clear memories of abuse that went on, in and around that area.

I remembered the feelings of pain and immense confusion over our private and “special friendship”. I felt the feelings of being trapped and locked in your box. I remembered the thoughts of back then, that if only people would know the real me, they would never talk to me again. I was overcome with sadness over the spark that you’ve extinguished in my soul.

My chest was pounding and my throat was tight with a massive lump in my throat, begging to explode into heart wrenching sobs over my lifeless body that went through that school and the schools before and after that one. Over the immense pain that I’ve experienced in that building and throughout the surrounding blocks. Over the way I was forced to live a double life. On the outside I appeared to be so normal yet on the inside I was being eaten alive by a sexual monster.

Although I felt so much pain standing there, I felt an undeniable sense of empowerment. There I was, standing at the very place of my attempted murder, yet I didn’t allow myself to die. Back then you controlled and manipulated every part of my physical and emotional being, yet now I’m a free man. An adult, married, with children, with my own successful business.

You’ve thrown all the blame and shame on me, however, I’m slowly starting to see the story for the way it really was. I’m seeing the truth in my story. I’m seeing how low and abusive you were and how vulnerable and pure I was. I’m seeing how you’ve used so many horrible tactics to keep me in your grasp and I was stuck without any voice or power to fight back. You’ve silenced my voice and stripped me of my power. You’ve turned me from being a pure innocent boy into a pleasure machine for you to use whenever you felt the need for it.

Standing there brought up so much emotion, but it also brought up so much pride in myself. I’m a product of so much hard and painful work. I had to go to the darkest places in my heart and reprocess them in order to heal. I’ve worked so hard to undo all your damage. I’ve cried so many tears to get to where I am today. I’ve fought off so many temptations to just give up and stop fighting. I’ve spent so many sleepless nights and have been through hundreds of nightmares, yet I kept on going, hoping that one day I will heal, even just a bit.

Standing in front of that building, that I’ve avoided for so many years was proof and a testimony that I’ve traveled many miles on my journey of healing. It was something I never thought I’ll be able to do, yet I did it today. I did it out of my own free will. I wasn’t forced by you. I wasn’t afraid of you. I wasn’t trapped by you. I did it, as a free man, free from your disgusting and manipulative grasp. I did it because I wanted to, not because I was being forced by you.

Yes, it was hard and emotionally draining to go back there, but it also gave me so much hope and pride. Pride in the work that I’ve done and hope that I can continue healing even more. I know that I will have bumps in the road and that healing is not a straight line, but I know that I won’t stop fighting until I get to a place of peace. I haven’t come this far to only go this far.

• A survivor