Dear Molester

I know, talk about entry overload, but I wrote this letter back in October of 2002. It appeared on my other website that I later had to abandon. Tonight I was searching on the internet for that site through archive.org, and I found a lot of my favorite entries still there. I thought I would put this one here for you guys to read, because it explains a lot about why I struggle so much with weight issues.

Dear Molester,

I've become a woman, no doubt if you could see me you would have noticed.

I waited too long to write you this letter, I wanted you to read it. I wanted you to know the full extent of my hatred of you, but you are unable to do that.

For a long time I have hated myself and tortured my body, I blame you for all of this. I couldn't get over what you did to me, how you violated me. I've wanted to disguise myself in fat so that nobody would touch me, I've wanted to eat to console myself and stuff myself with food so that I could not feel the pain.

I've finally gotten to the point where I think I have that under control. I'm getting thinner, feeling healthy, and working on other ways to medicate my brokenness. I've begun to love my body and treat it with respect by taking care of myself.

I've allowed others to violate me because you taught me that I was nothing and that nobody would ever love me. I've abused alcohol and other substances, I've been raped by men and made to feel awful, dirty and ugly inside and out. You did this to me. You made me feel cheap and not worthy of anyone's love. You made me see sex as a means for getting close to someone, as the only way of obtaining love.

I've finally found someone who truly loves me. I've been hurt over and over and suffered a lot of heartbreak in my life. You wouldn't think I've had the time to accumulate so many scars, but I have thanks to you.

When I fall, I fall hard. It was always for someone that I couldn't have full possession of: someone physically far away, someone emotionally far away, or just someone who wanted to use me the way that you did. In each instance, I always gave everything I had. In every situation, I was laid open and left bare. So many men have trampled on me while I gave them the full license to do so. This will not happen anymore.

My future husband is the most incredible, loving man. I thought I'd never find anyone like him that would even try to understand the fucked up mess you left me in. Yet I found him. He is helping me become someone that I can be proud of, and he loves me with a love that I didn't even know existed.

I hate you for all the pain you've caused me, for all the instability you brought to my life. For your pleasure you bought me a lifetime of sorrow.

Yet that is not what this letter is all about. It really is about how there is hope, and how I will not allow you to keep fucking me in your grave. Now that your penis has rotted off, I am finally free of you. I never have to see your face again, except in my nightmares. I know for sure you are not out there sticking your hands down some other little girls pants and subsequently ruining her life. And this you see, brings me hope.

I know that I will always carry around what you did to me; I will wear it like a scar that has faded from view. I can deal with this. I will continue to have flashbacks and setbacks in my life, this too is something I have accepted. At least I won't be doing it all alone anymore.

Now I know it is okay to hate you and not myself, it is okay for me to acknowledge that I am not the bad one. It is you, it has always been you, you sick bastard.