Dear Survivor

Dear Survivor,

This is a letter that should never have to be written; a note that should not have to be penned. But given the circumstances, there are some things I want you to hear and need you to know.

I am so sorry for what you lived through; what you experienced.
And for what you are forced to endure every day.

I am sorry that your story has been diminished to a two word hashtag.
I am sorry that the most terrifying moments of your life continue to be called into question.
I am sorry that you are criticized for not saying 'no'; for not fighting back; for not leaving.
I am sorry that you are told, repeatedly, that it was your fault or that you asked for it because you let them into your place or stayed at theirs.
I am sorry that you are led to believe that you actually wanted it because you flirted back or kissed them.
I am sorry that you wrestle with the lies that you must have liked it because you engaged in foreplay or had an orgasm.

I am sorry that you are made to feel guilty for wanting a date, a relationship, or a night without being hit, pushed, choked, held down, forced, insulted, coerced or afraid.

I am sorry you have days that feel so heavy and out of control; some days it feels as if you are an empty shell, and others that you are being crushed under the burden of memories.
I am sorry you have nights that feel so raw and vulnerable; some nights you can't stop crying, and others there are simply no tears left.

I am sorry for the times you relive it all over again.

I am sorry that it feels so overwhelmingly real.

That the images still race through your mind, over and over.
That you still feel them on your skin, against your body, inside of you.
That you still hear the door closing, the sound of their steps, the pitch their voice.
That you still smell their breath, their sweat, the dinner you just ate, the drink they just finished.
That all these images, feelings, sounds and smells are nauseating.
That there is never enough water to wash them off of you.
That there is no medicine strong enough to get them out of your head.
That they still hold you captive in your own body.

I am sorry that you feel numb. Or can't feel numb enough.
I am sorry you can't forget; you can't shut it out, or off, or let it go.
I am sorry that you ask yourself a thousand times, why; and worse, why didn't you.

Mostly, I am sorry that I have to say sorry at all.
That after what you went through, after all you still walk through, this world extends more shame than support.

What I really want to say, dear survivor, is not sorry.
What I really want to say, dear survivor, is that you deserve better.
You deserve respect, dignity, and compassion.
You deserve the space to completely unravel, and be held in safe arms.
You deserve to space to rage, and to heal.
You deserve the space to stand tall, and to speak out.
You deserve to be heard, and believed.
You are not responsible for the crimes of others.

I know most days you don't see it.
I know most days you don't feel it.
I know most days you don't believe it.
But you are the most mother-fucking strong human.
You are fighting a war that no can see, and you are the hero of every single victory.
You are mighty, but never alone in the battle.

Your story matters.
You matter.

Though you have been made out to be a fool, a casualty, a victim...you are none of these.
You are a survivor, and I stand with you.

With deepest respect,
-A Survivor