An Open Letter to My Abuser

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You know who you are,

I’m over you.

In fact, I’m so over you that difference between us is the difference between Mount Everest and the Titanic, and it’s been that way for awhile. However, as much as I may be over you, I’m not over what you did to me.

I clawed my way of out the pit of death you left me in with blood and earth all over my face and my nails torn to stubs, and fought like hell to rebuild myself into the woman I was before you- if not better. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and people tell me daily that I have a radiance that shines from me that hasn’t existed in years. Yet, here I am letting the past affect my future in so many ways and left with these questions and so much more:

How do you get over the fact that someone who said “forever” looked you dead in the eyes and lied to you about anything from the women he cheated on you with to the money he was stealing from you?

How do you get over the fact that the person who you loved more than anything in the world destroyed your self-confidence and took pleasure in it?

How do you get over and move on with your life when you are still grappling with the distinction between what is reality and what is fabrication after years of gas-lighting?

How do you get over the fact that you were weak enough that you let someone emotionally and abuse you and call it “love?”

An Open Letter to My Abuser

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t feel a certain bitterness towards what you did to me and the fact that I let it happen. I mull over exactly what I did to make you detest me so much that you pretended to love me when you really wanted to destroy me. I grapple with the fact that for the first time, I willingly gave myself to another person, and you took the whole of me, slowly and painfully chewed me up, and spat it right back in my face. It makes me sick to admit that you have any such hold over my life after you manipulated, abused, and almost destroyed me, but you do. All of which, I’m sure would give you a sick amount of pleasure. I’m not sure who it makes me hate more- me or you.

A part of me knows that the distrust and bitterness for others that I’ve developed will go away in time, but another part of me knows that the effects of what you did to me will reverberate through my life and relationships for years to come. The emotional and psychological abuse you put me through throughout our relationship has affected the way I see everyone and everything-both for better and worse.

For as much as I hate and blame myself, I am incredibly proud of the woman I see when I look in the mirror. I see a woman who you tried to drag down with you to the pits of hell, and instead of being burned, became the fire. I see a woman who has helped others with her story. Most importantly, I see myself for the first time in years.

I may be over you, but I’m not over what you did to me and in a lot of ways I never will be. I can, however, promise you that every day of my life I will fight to be become a better woman and be the opposite of what you told me I was- strong and valuable. My life is my own again, and I intend to keep it that way.

An Open Letter to My Abuser


The Girl You Couldn’t Destroy

About Chloe

Chloe is a San Antonio, TX native who loves margaritas and brunch almost as much as she loves reading a good book and a catching up on Empire. Learn more about Just a Girl in This World, click on the "About" tab in the main menu.