You hiding in your room, scratching and cutting at yourself, trying to get rid of the marks they left. You wonder if you’ll ever be okay, if you’ll ever feel comfortable enough to even be seen by another. You cover every inch of yourself in baggy clothing. Don’t let them s\ee what’s underneath, they’ll only hurt you. 

You cry every day hoping for that innocence you once had, the child you could’ve been. You wish you would have spoken up sooner. You blame yourself, you feel you are the cause of what happened. You can’t stand it when another touches your skin, when they look at you, when they see you. You just want to be invisible, you want to hide, you want to hide it all.

When you were a kid, you couldn't do anything. You were weak and naive. You were lonely. they held you, and loved you, but not the way someone should. they forced you to do these nasty things that no person should be forced to go through. they manipulated you. Made you believe it was right, even when you knew it wasn’t, the fear kept you there, kept you silent. they knew how to get under your skin. they knew exactly what to say and what to do. 

You wonder to yourself, what if it happens again? What if you're forced to repeat that terrible memory. The memory that keeps you up at night, clawing at yourself, crying so hard you can’t seem to catch a breath. Your silent screams for help, why is it so hard to talk about it?

You tell someone about it, whether they believe you or not, they will always hold it against you, blame you, hurt you. Why can’t people just leave you be? Why can’t people realize you’re hurt? Realize that you need help. 

Any man or woman you date will sexualize it, or tell you it’s your fault, or that you deserved it. They’ll tell you all these gross and perverted things you can’t stand to hear. You just wish they would all shut up, but they don’t and they never will. They don’t care about you, your story, or your feelings. They’ll do anything to get to you, to make you feel weak and to belittle you and make you feel worthless, like some used rag. 

People will treat you differently, treat you like you’re a piece of filth, tell you that you asked for it and wanted it. You know you didn’t want it, just because you hadn’t spoken up about it as soon as it happened doesn’t mean you wanted it, you were scared, there was nothing you could do, you didn’t know what would happen or who would believe you if you did say something.

For the rest of your life, men or women will terrify you, make you feel like you need to be extra careful, and cautious of your surroundings, pray every day and night that it won’t happen again, pray you’ll be able to get away and keep yourself safe.

I hope in the future to be that safe place for people to go to and confide in, to be trusted, to allow them to know it won’t happen again. Hopefully.