A letter from a broken toy
To whom it may concern:
I really don’t want to use your name. For decades, I didnt even remember it. And you might not even remember mine, but I was one of your toys, all those years ago. Only God and you know how many of us there were. I do not know if I can do justice to the havoc you have created in your search for self gratification. But I must try, if only for my own peace of mind. You striped me of 2 and a half years of my life, feeding me drugs to make me compliant, warping my mind to better suit your sick fantasy.
Nor did the damage end when my time with you was up. The drugs permanently damaged my ability to remember and concentrate, and the filth in my mind cannot ever be removed. I am damaged goods, now and until I die, thanks to you. I was a child, entrusted to your care and you betrayed that trust in the most repulsive way imaginable. I believe it was your goal to twist me in such a way as so I would never come forward, but instead blame myself for what you did.
I did just that for decades.
I paid a heavy price for what you did to me. I failed at every relationship I attempted. I spent years fighting nightmares and flashbacks, I flinch sometimes even yet when someone attempts to touch me. That’s your legacy. No court could give you a strong enough sentence, nothing on this earth could equal your crimes.
As a Christian, I must forgive, but I am finding it extremely difficult not to wish to be present when you must appear before God and finally have the masks and lies stripped away from you before you receive justice. Yet I must forgive, and even ask for mercy on your behalf. I have no choice but to leave your fate to Him and find a way to move on with my life. And that’s what I plan to do, with God's help.
A former victim, now a survivor.
A Second Letter from a (Formerly) Broken Toy
To the person who abused me:
I wrote you a letter some time ago, and today I felt compelled to write another.
You see, things have changed for me. I have recovered most of the memories I suppressed and I understand better what happened to me while I was in your “care.”
I now know how you used my desire toward the feminine to control me, how you twisted my gender issues to feed your needs. You made me so ashamed of myself, so afraid of what I felt, that I would submit to your “attention” rather than risk exposure.
Worse, you threatened my loved ones, and did it in such a way that I internalized it, came to believe that I was the threat to them.
But now it is all over. I don’t belong to you anymore. I am free, and I can make the declaration to the world:
I AM NOT A FREAK, A SISSY, OR ANY OTHER NAME YOU CHOSE TO GIVE ME, I WAS NOT EVIL OR PERVERTED, AND I WAS NOT AT FAULT, NOT THEN, AND NOT NOW.
I may cry again, grieve for the loss of innocence again, have spasms of rage and pain again, but I am more than those moments.
I have friends, family, faith. I have found I have some talents and can even be seen as worthwhile, helpful, and kind. I have found that I actually add to the lives of others.
I am not just surviving, but thriving.
As the saying goes, the best revenge is a life well lived, and I am finally on my way to having that, and I can leave you in the past, where you belong.
No longer a broken toy, but a healing human being.