TRIGGER WARNING: Those who have suffered childhood traumas may be triggered by the contents of this post. Please proceed with caution.
A letter to my inner child
With tears in my eyes I write this to you. I write because I must. I write because, otherwise I do not know how to reach you.
Gwennie, I saw when he had you lying on your back in the woods. I saw his hands when he took leaves to wipe away sperm from your vagina. You were frozen as if dead, but I saw you because I was floating above you. I am sorry I did not help you. I saw when you gagged as he forced you to perform oral sex on him. You could not see me because I was floating above you. I am sorry I did not tell someone what he made you do. I was there in that dark room with you every time he thought he was hiding his deeds under the bedding. I know you thought you were alone, but I was there floating above you. I am sorry I did not speak up or tell anyone he was hurting you.
As time passed, I ignored your tears, your screams, your hurt, and your sadness. It was too painful for me to face. I felt shame and guilt for not helping you because I was frozen too.
You still sit down below somewhere in the darkness. What was once a fearful place for you has now become your only comfort and I can no longer see you. But I know you are there because your memories, your tears, your pain, your sadness, and your screams still torment me.
Gwennie, please don’t be mad at me. I wanted to help you but I was so afraid. Can you ever forgive me? And if so, how do I forgive myself?