Letter to My Rapist by SSS

“Forgiveness, although frequently recommended by well-meaning (and not so well meaning) people, is not necessarily a stage of the healing process. Although some survivors naturally reach a place of
forgiveness after moving through the other stages of healing, it is not necessary to forgive the abuser in order to heal. Forgiveness is a personal choice and a personal experience, but it’s not the end of the healing process or the ultimate goal of healing.”

—  Laura Davis, Allies in Healing

“The black moment is the moment is when the real message of transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light.”
—  Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth

Most want to say, ‘we are spiritual first’. But I see it that we are human first, and that is what makes the spiritual journey complex. Our spirit and soul guide us through this human experience, which is both painful and joyful. It is not one or the other. To forget the pain is to forget ourselves, our humanness and the millions of people who are still struggling to overcome tragedy and trauma.

Compassion comes from knowing pain. If we hide this pain then we can never build the spiritual and emotional strength to find the love our pain seeks.

No one can tell us what will heal us. No book, no theory, no doctrine, no practice. We can follow certain guidelines, rituals and the footsteps of others who have reached healing, but only we can know, through individual struggle and suffering, the answer that works. We need the support and guidance of others. But we need to be vigilant to find a wise teacher who can hold pain and know
joy at the same time. Someone who themselves has learned what self-acceptance and peace means to them through their own suffering. Who can help point the way. To allow for all human experience and expression to exist on every dimension and in every form.

To process this pain takes a holistic approach, a deeper ancient knowing and a deep hunger to reclaim our human heart and soul. It is not a perfect journey. And that is why the process of healing is human. It takes courage, surrender, impeccability, creativity, commitment and focus to stay on track of this deep transformation of the human spirit.

Read this poignant, fierce letter. Be open to what you feel and think.

Thank you for this sharing. May it be a blessing and validation to those who read it. This letter is what Give Her A Voice is about. To hold the space and forum for all who want to become whole from the effects and symptoms of complex trauma through their individual expression.

Letter to My Rapist
by SSS
I was a new mother. My daughter nearly four. I was young, at 26, but had seen more than most. I was sweet, beautiful, and I was strong.
Do you remember me?
That day that I went in to the bar where you tended to celebrate the end of a semester at school.
Full time mother, full time at work, and full time at school.
I deserved to relax and have fun.
We were friends, more than from time to time, and you fed me free shots. I think I had fun but it’s hazy.
Closing time.
I was driving home and gave you a ride. I should NOT have been driving but, hey, we all make stupid choices sometimes.
Even you.
Remember the stupid choice YOU made that night?
It goes like this…
Somehow you came into my house. My recollection is that you lived near to me so the ride that I offered was to get you home.
I sauntered into my house (luckily my daughter was safely with a sitter) and went straight to my bed which is, often, the case when people are wasted returning home from a bar.
Upon lying down, I got the spins so I got up from my bed, took off my shirt, and went to the toilet where I laid my head for long enough to vomit and pass out a few times in the dark.
When I felt my stomach and dizziness was eased, I returned to my bed and passed out. Ya know, PASSED OUT. From too much alcohol. I am sure that you, and other ladies like me, have been there numerous times.
What I woke to was you on top of me riding my limp body. My eyes opened, most likely, from the jolt of you entering me without me being wet. Without my permission. I wan’t even conscious.
I have ONE split second memory of you pumping me because I passed back out.
When I woke the next morning, I was naked in my bed, allowing the pieces of the night to fall into place. Alone with the knowledge that I had been raped.
By you.
I was a fucking Crisis Counselor for The Rape and Domestic Violence Information Center. I ADVOCATED for women who had been raped at hospitals. I KNEW that what you had done to me was WRONG yet I did not call the authorities.
Inside of me, I felt what so many women feel when raped because of what our society has taught us – that we, somehow, deserved it.
That, because you and I had been agreeably intimate in the past, you had a right to fuck me without my consent. Or, maybe, it was because my father sexually abused me and I felt frozen by what you had done to me.
So TRAUMATIZED that what you did to me STILL LIVES in me to this day.
It is a story I tell often to counselors and to men with whom I am intimate but cannot bring myself to trust. “I have been raped”, I say, and your face comes into my mind. Your face over top of me while you raped me.
You seemed to be enjoying yourself. Did you use a condom? Did you ejaculate inside of me? There was no evidence of it when I woke.
No acknowledgment of it when I confronted you about it.
I went back to your bar and wrote DANO IS A RAPIST on a stall in the girls bathroom.
In the process of needing to feel heard, I discovered that you had done that to another girl in our “circle”. Same scenario.
You were, in fact, in a relationship with your current wife.
I will be sure to forward this to her. Not that she doesn’t know all the evil things you have done. I would venture to believe that she was sexually abused as a child too. Ya know, to stay with a man
who continually cheated on her by raping other women.
Me writing this letter to you will not take away that memory or that trauma. I will always have been raped by you. My entire life.
It has affected me on deep levels.
Self Esteem, Trust, Boundaries, Anxiety.
Every time I have a panic attack, you are there. Every time I push someone away, you are there. Every time I say “no” and my voice isn’t heard. Every time I pick myself bloody to ease the internal
In these ways and more, you will always remain a rapist.
I do not forgive you.
I wish you nothing but to be fucked, beyond your control, in return.

Write your own letter or story…from these lines by Louise Gluck, Wild Iris…or use your own…

I did not expect to survive

I didn’t expect to waken again

Remembering after so long how to open again


Recommended Resources
Click the book titles for Amazon links:

Still Hurting? Find Health! Discover What’s Behind Your Symptoms (That Doctors Can’t Explain) by William B. Salt II, M.D. and Thomas L. Hudson, M.Div., J.D. – www.stillhurtingfindhealth.com

Allies In Healing by Laura Daviswww.lauradavis.net

The Courage to Heal by Laura Daviswww.lauradavis.net