I will forget today just like I forgot yesterday and the day before. I will forget the date and the place but I won't forget the way you placed your hands on my sides and pulled me to your side almost binding me to you.
But I didn't pull away.
Instead, I smiled. I smiled and said I think it's late and I should go back but if you'd bothered to look a little more closely, you'd see that it was a broken smile.
It was the smile that I had gently donned as a silent tribute to the girl who was gang-raped in Delhi and the boy who was born a refugee. It was a smile that appeared when words cowered to express the shame and the guilt I felt because we had failed them.
And it was the smile that I plastered on my face as I was molested by one of my idols.
But I'm not going to say that you scarred me or that I will never be able to lead a normal life because you've probably heard that a million times before. But I'll tell you one thing.
I had always believed that there are some things a person can never get used to. And molestation was on my list. But after being sexually assaulted by a cousin, having a 40 year old uncle dig his penis into my ass during a car ride and having been inappropriately touched and cat-called at in movie theatres and buses more number of times than you can count on your fingers; sexual assault doesn't surprise me anymore. When you were busy biting my neck, the only thing I could think of was: 'Where should I look so I can't see the reflection of my face'.
When I left, I had this feeling that I had left something behind, but I couldn't put a finger on exactly what that was. That night as I was trying to wash away all the perpetual dirt that seemed to surround me, I realised what I'd left behind. My power to feel.
While people are busy trying to find themselves, you (along with many others) helped me lose a part of myself.
Thank you so much