Coffee Talk: Dear Boys

Musicians have their songs. I’m not a singer or lyricist. Laura Jean had her letters. I can write.

These are mine.

Dear first kiss,

You kissed me during recess, over the railings where our classrooms met. You had kissed plenty of girls and everyone knew it. I hadn’t kissed anyone yet. Everyone knew I had a crush on you, but you were indifferent. You stole my first kiss all because you couldn’t take a little teasing from your bros. Thank you for being the first boy to make me feel like my feelings didn’t matter.

Dear betrayer,

I was heartbroken and crying in the dark. You came to check on me because you were my “friend.” You said you wanted to comfort me. Instead you took advantage of me. Thank you for making me feel dirty.

Dear virginity,

I don’t hate you for being my first nor do I regret it. What I do hate is how you used our physical attraction and chemistry against me. You were the one who ended things and said that you only got back with me because of your family. I wasn’t an option anymore, but you still kept me around for convenience. I spent the summer trying to get over you and you spent the summer randomly hitting me up for fun. It’s not all on you though. I didn’t have to give in, but I always did because I loved you. Thank you for making me feel like my body was all I was good for.

Dear guy at the bar,

Maybe you could argue that you were swaying to the music and your hand brushed the back of my leg as I passed. I wasn’t just passing by. Yes, I was trying to make my way across the dance floor, but like all bars and clubs it’s easy to get stuck. In that moment where my group was trapped and trying to find a way out, you reached under my skirt and grabbed my ass. I didn’t even get a chance to react because luck was on your side and the crowd pushed me forward. You’ll forever be a faceless guy who violated my boundaries. I spent the rest of that night questioning myself. Was it my outfit? Did I perhaps smile at you and you took that as flirting? Thank you for making me question everything I wear, say, and do when I go out.

Dear almost potential boss,

You abused your position. You would demand I hug you and if didn’t you would hug me anyways. You would rub my shoulders or run your hand up and down my back. You would try to hold my hand. You would make inappropriate comments. Every day you would say, “let me buy you a nice apartment in Irvine or Lake Forest – closer to me.” You’d follow it up with, “it would save you a lot of money on uber and Lyft. I can just get you every day.” I quit by the end of the first full week of work. Thank you for making me fear men in higher positions.

Dear drunken night,

Nothing could have protected me from you expect you. I drunkenly called you and you willingly came. When I got uncomfortable you told me to relax. I was drunk. I wasn’t all there and you knew it. It’s painful because I can’t even remember much from that night. The only thing I’m certain of – and I’m grateful for – is that you didn’t rape me because my bedroom door doesn’t lock. Would you have if it did? I remember the morning after. The blood. The soreness. The bruises. Thank you for making me feel unsafe in the one place that I’m supposed to always feel safe – my bedroom.

Dear boys following him,

I told both of you about the incident – not in a lot of detail, but that something happened. Boy one: you told me not to worry about it. That I “probably wanted it at the time” and that I “probably had fun.” Thank you for kicking me while I was already down. Boy two: you called me “damaged.” You said you couldn’t be with someone who was “damaged” because you wouldn’t be able to hug me or kiss me. Thank you for making me feel like no one would ever love me because of this.

Dear udon guy,

Now maybe it’s unfair for me to write a letter to you. I mean, I am basing this off a claim that the server made. He said he caught you filming me and asked what I wanted to do. I could only say, “I don’t know” and I still don’t know what I should have done. Should I have confronted you? What if the server was mistaken and you hadn’t been filming me? I hope he was mistaken, because if not, why did you do it? I was just another girl enjoying a meal. Why did you choose to record me? Thank you for violating my privacy.

Dear all the boys mentioned,

Thank you for hurting me. Whether it was physically, mentally, or emotionally, you have all left a mark on me. You have all taught me valuable lessons.

·      My feelings do matter and those who truly care will acknowledge them.

·      I am not dirty – you were. I am not an object to use and any man who loves me will not treat me as such.

·      I can dress how I want, say what I want, and behave how I want when I go out. It does not give any random person the permission to inappropriately touch me.

·      I don’t need to fear every man in power, for a good leader will not abuse their power.

·      If I let you hold control over me then you win. I will regain my power and my room will become my sanctuary again.

·      The man I’m meant to be with won’t judge me for that night. He will – or at least try to – understand how I feel about it and how it has affected me. He will love me and accept me despite it all.

·      No matter how cautious I am, there will always be creeps out there. I can’t live my life in fear, and I refuse to do so.

Finally, thank you for the most valuable lesson I’ve learned from you all. Thank you for teaching me that I can and will survive. That I can be strong and vulnerable at the same time, for there is strength in vulnerability.

Thank you.