Several years ago, I wrote a brief narrative of what happened to me. From there, I had to find different statements that were “stuck points” and attempt to refute them. That was back when Dr. C. and I were attempting to use Cognitive Processing Therapy. It was kind of a crash-and-burn experience for me. Everything that had happened to me felt so intertwined that I couldn’t make sense of it, and I was dead set on beating myself up and blaming myself for all of it, somehow convinced that that was how I was going to “get over it all.” I just wasn’t ready, and it was a frustrating experience. Interestingly, this letter was very much like finding stuck points. It was seeing all of the things I “should have done.” The difference is that I was not looking at those things this time to attack myself or look back and blame. This time, I was identifying all the things I wished had been different but hadn’t. They are all the things I needed to grieve.

So, the letter below is an honest look at the things I didn’t do that I can grieve rather than hate myself for. I can’t change these things now, and because of that, I need to grieve that something terrible happened. I have to grieve that it all happened the way it did. It is only by giving myself grace and love that I can heal. Blame, shame, and hate will continue to keep me stuck like I was when I was trying to heal using CPT.

Dear Becks

I know I’ve spent nearly 20 years listing in my head all the things I thought you should’ve done differently. I’m going to tell you about them again, but this time in an “I wish” format. I don’t want to blame you anymore. I just want to be able to give us both a chance to grieve what could have been different. Maybe each thing could’ve led to something better, but maybe they could’ve been worse too. That’s not the point. The point is that all of these things are stuck points for both of us, and we need to see them, grieve that it wasn’t different, and then accept that we endured something terrible.

First, I wish we would have enrolled in a graduate school at some other university so we didn’t have to go back to BBC and try to re-establish friends, integrity, and grit. I wish we would’ve found a different place to live, either with a friend who wasn’t afraid of the unknown or with new friends and different support. I wish we had interpreted our professors’ disbelief, questioning, and lack of support as red flags and walked away from school.

I wish we had protected our space – our room and bed. We’ve never been comfortable with others in our space, and we could have listened to that discomfort. No one is allowed in that space. I wish we hadn’t allowed anyone to touch us when we first felt uneasy. I wish we had trusted the feeling and said, “NO!” I wish we had stopped the non-sexual touches and requests, and then I wish we had escaped or spoken up before being raped the first time.

I wish we had persisted with our professor when you told him what happened. You were so brave for reaching out in the first place, and I wish we could’ve pushed back when he blamed you. I wish we had been honest about the likelihood of it happening again, rather than pushing that thought away. I wish we would’ve said, “NO” to the person coming back to our space – our bedroom and bed. I wish we had stopped the advancements that started again – the simple touching that we knew wasn’t innocent and wouldn’t stop there.

And if things had already made it that far, I wish we had not maintained the relationship, though I know that would’ve been scary and would’ve felt even more unpredictable. I wish we had left the situation. Was staying in graduate school really worth all the pain, guilt, shame, etc? It felt like it, I know.

The fact is, we didn’t do any of the things we think may have helped when we look back. We can’t go back to fix things, erase them, or make it all better. It happened – all of it, and it all sucked. I can’t take back any of those things for us. I can’t even take back the years of blame, hatred, and punishment. But I want to help us heal from here.

I want you to know that I understand you didn’t make those decisions to hurt us. You made those choices because you were trying to keep us safe. You didn’t know what else to do, but you were doing the best you could with the resources and skills you had.

Now, we need to just grieve that it happened because it did. I need to support you through each of the terrible things that happened and the things we wish had happened, or things we wish we had done. It sucks. It always has and always will – but maybe a little less.

43-Year-Old Becks