DreamBook: Things They Thought I Wouldn’t Tell

Trigger Warning: This entry includes themes of sexual assault. If you’re not in the right place to read this today, that’s okay. Please take care of yourself — there’s plenty else on my site waiting for you when you’re ready.

📓 DreamBook Entry #15 — Things They Thought I Wouldn’t Tell

Dear DreamBook,

I went around my whole life not knowing what to call it.
That awful twisted feeling in my chest.
That silence I kept carrying.
I just thought I was weird, dramatic, overreacting.
But it had a name.

And knowing that name doesn’t fix everything.
But it makes me feel less invisible.
Less alone.

So I’m going to say it now, the way I wish someone had said it to me:
What happened to you was real. And wrong. And it wasn’t your fault.

This is hard to write.
But I promised myself I’d tell the truth, even the parts that shake.

It started at the coffee shop.

I was 15. Maybe 16.
Too young to drive, too old to be protected like a child.
He was 38.

He started showing up a lot.
Smiling too long. Asking questions that made my skin feel like it didn’t fit.
And I didn’t know what to do because no one teaches you how to say “go away”
without sounding mean.
Or rude.
Or wrong.

And I didn’t want to be wrong.
Girls like me are taught to be polite, even to danger.

So I smiled awkwardly.
Looked at the floor.
Hoped he’d stop.

He didn’t.

The one day I actually interacted with him at the coffee shop,
he said he stole something off the shelf for me.
I… just couldn’t believe anything anymore.

Then he found me on MySpace.

Back when MySpace was everything —
He messaged me. Privately.
At first it was innocent. Jokes. Music. Flirting I didn’t understand.
But it got darker. Fast.

He said things I didn’t have the words to reply to.
Compliments that felt like cages.
Questions that made me want to disappear into my screen.
And still, I didn’t know it was wrong.
I just felt… heavy. Guilty. Sick.

I didn’t know how the deep dark internet worked.
I was 15. He was in his late 20s.
He told me what tongue rings were for.
I……… it is so messed up.

I didn’t know I was being groomed.
I didn’t even know that was a word.

More soon.
I need to take a breath. Maybe you do too.

– Me xoxo🕯️