“I no longer live in my body since you forced me”: letter to my rapist

Dear Lorenzo*,

You were pretty. Your green eyes attracted me. I was a young teenager, just out of childhood. I didn’t understand anything about feelings, much less sex. I was thirteen. I was in the sixth grade. You were much older. 16? 17?

“I didn’t want to, it said ‘No’ inside”

We kissed. I wanted to conquer. To feel loved. You thought of sexual desire, the beach, the trap. Vast sand, surf. Romantic in the moonlight. Far from the campsite and my camp. Lost sheep. Forced to give you oral sex. Feeling disgusted. Unable to say no. I bent my back. I didn’t want to, inside it was written “no”. The humiliation of not being able to refuse. Afraid of not satisfying you? Afraid of violence if I don’t submit. Scared, alone. Lost afterwards. Disoriented. I feel robbed of my freedom to choose my first time. Loving sweetly. Sex is compulsion.

The man who abuses his power: after I will see all men like this. Fascinated, submissive to their desire. Anticipating their impulses so as not to fall back into submission. To please. Fuck all the boys I like. To challenge morality, I am untouchable, invincible because I have been through the fire of rape. Burned, I seek humiliation again and again. One night stand, boy who does not call back. Call me a taxi after sex. I submit to their conditions. I no longer know how to choose. Have fun. The other one goes first. To give me peace of mind, I let them decide. I do what they want.

“I am angry with all the men on earth”

I haven’t lived in my body anymore since you forced me on that beach in Taormina. You took advantage of your ascendancy as an omnipotent male, you allowed yourself to please yourself without thinking about the violence you inflicted on me.

I am angry with all the men of the earth. Their violence, their lack of empathy, their weaknesses, governed by their impulses, wound the flesh of all these women, my daughters. Filthy barbarity of this abject sex that disgusts me. I am tired of being angry, I want to love again. Lorenzo, I just wanted you to love me.

I’m looking for softness. But I don’t feel ready to love a man properly and to love myself as I am, I still have too much anger. I dream that awareness arises among men, that they apologize and heal, that the education of boys allows them to become unstructured men, respectful of women.

* Names have been changed.

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