An Open Letter to the Family Members That Failed Me

First and foremost, I want to say that I forgive you. I forgive you for the years of silent judgement. I forgive you for choosing to keep a family secret over my physical and mental health.

Furthermore, I want to say that I understand. I understand how hard it must have been to hear that one of your kin could have possibly, dare I say, sexually assaulted me. I understand that you must have felt as though you were stuck between a rock and a hard place; for that, I do not blame you. You might have thought, “Cousins can’t abuse cousins. Attackers are only strangers in dark alleys and Catholic priests or something.” I’m sorry that you thought the world was so black and white.

What I can’t seem to wrap my head around is why you had to chose my attacker’s safety over my own. Why, for the past decade, I’ve been expected to sit across the dinner table at countless holidays with the man who molested me. And most importantly, why I never, not once, received an apology from you.

I am fully aware that thousands upon millions of men and women experience sexual assault significantly worse than I have, but this does not negate the fact that what I experienced was wrong. This does not change the fact that I can’t be touched by my partner without the belligerent remembrance of how it felt to be touched by him. And this does not comfort me when I lie awake at night, drenched in my own tears and thoughts at your obvious disregard for my safety.

They say blood is thicker than water, but were they referring to the blood that was on his hands when he scraped the innocence from between my thighs?

While I may never receive a verbal apology from you, just know that I’ve already accepted it. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that those who were meant to protect me couldn’t, although I cannot seem to come up with a justifiable reason why not. At the end of the day, the physical bruises he left on me have healed. I’ve found peace with my assault. I’ve found peace with my neglect. I hope that one day you find peace with yourself, too.