There was a time when I was younger when I thought that my childhood was going to last forever, simply because I was having such a great time being a kid. There was a time in my life when I though I could do anything, I could be anything, I could say anything, because everyone listened and I felt my opinion mattered to everyone.

Then a horrible thing happened: I lost my innocence and my faith in people, I lost my faith in myself. Just because of you. You are the one who made me, in part, who I am today. The one who made me doubt myself, hate myself, want to slash my wrists repeatedly because I thought I was not worthy of anyone's attention. See the difference between now and then? You're the cause of that anguish and pain. You're the cause of my many sleepless nights, the cause of my visits to the counsellor, the cause of the depression that always settles over me like an unwelcome and unwanted blanket. This darkness was caused by you. You're the one person who robbed me of my childlike innocence, my dreams and hopes.

I remember when it started happening, I thought it was my fault. I thought I was too provocative for you, I thought I brought these… these… things on myself. But when you began telling me how awful I was, how ugly I was, and began hitting me with your fists and with other inanimate objects that I realized that it wasn't me. You just enjoyed making me hurt, physically and emotionally. You enjoyed my tears and my pain, like some kind of animal who preys on smaller animals than itself just because it can. You were like that. You preyed on me because I was smaller than you. You knew I had no self-esteem, you knew I would let you do whatever you did to me because I was afraid. How I hated you then. How I still hate you now.

There are no words in the entire dictionary to describe how much the pain you inflicted me, the assaults you made on my body hurt. There is no way I could even attempt trying to describe the way I felt after the bell rang and everything went back to normal. For me, after that, nothing was ever normal again. I always felt dirty, felt like I didn't matter, like no one cared about me. I knew that wasn't true, but in my mind, after you assaults, both sexual and physical, I felt like no one cared.

When I saw you at school a few years later, the fire burning inside me raged so hard that it hurt to look at you. It hurt me to think that you, whom I had considered a friend, had used me to your liking, knowing I wouldn't say anything. You, my friend, had taken advantage of my self-consciousness because you knew I was weak.

The fire still burns in me, but it burns low now. I can forgive you for what you did because it was such an awful violation of my privacy, but I'm learning to forgive myself. I thought everything was my fault. You robbed me of my innocence and my happiness, and instead sowed self-doubt, weakness, depression and many many tears. I never knew how to manage that grief. Since then, I've lost the one thing that is more precious to me than anything: Trust. I can't get close to anyone because I'm afraid of what will happen. And when I do get close to someone, I end up losing them anyway because I'm so possessive. You implanted that in me. Had it not been for you, I would probably be a normal, happy teenager. But instead, I'm constantly living underneath a hateful black cloud. A cloud called depression.

I wish I hadn't let myself be manipulated by you. I wish I hadn't played along with your sick games out of fear of what you might do to me. I wish I hadn't been so stupid as to think you would stop. But the past is in the past. I can't change the past, so I must learn from it and not make the same mistakes twice.

Now, six years later, I'm still struggling with that self-doubt and the self-consciousness. But I'm sure you've heard a quote that says "That which does not kill me only makes me stronger." I might hate you and I might feel as though you are responsible for the way I am today, but going through everything you did to me served its purpose: it made me stronger. Not as strong as I would like, but I am stronger than you. People like you are weak. They're users.

I wish I hadn't gone through all that I have. I wish I hadn't tried to commit suicide, I wish I wasn't on Zoloft today to make me feel better. But now that six years have gone by, I'm glad, in a strange way, that I went through what I did. Because now, I am a strong person. Nothing compares to what you did to me. Nothing compares to those sexual, physical and emotional assaults you inflicted on me. I am able to deal with minor situations easily now. You ruined my remaining childhood, but there is no way you will ruin what's left of my teenage years. I'm stronger than you now. I am a better person than you and I am finally letting those horrible two years go. I'm letting myself forget because I know I did not deserve your horrible treatment.

I am strong and beautiful, even if you succeeded, for awhile, in making me believe otherwise. Goodbye to your mind games and to the pain you made me go through.

Goodbye to you.

Gennie