A Letter To My Younger Self - A Blog by Arianna Shanks

I did an interview once where I was asked what I would say to my abuser if I had the chance. Whether it be right now, in this time and place, or if I could go back in time and talk to him.
The short answer is that I wouldn’t. 

First of all, because I shouldn’t have to convince someone that I didn’t deserve to be abused. 

Second of all, because no amount of pleading or persuading or trying to convince my abuser of my humanity would make him see that what he did was wrong. There is nothing I could ever say to him that would make him apologetic or invoke regret on his end. The long answer is this: 

I’ll probably live with the consequences of his actions for the rest of my life, but I doubt he will ever take the blame or feel guilty for any of it. Sometimes I feel like the people who love me had the worst end of it by having to watch me suffer through that. Then, on the worst days, when the trauma triggers make it impossible to get through a normal day, I think they’re lucky they only had to watch. 

So no. I wouldn’t tell my abuser anything. But I know if I could go back to that time in my life, there is someone I would want to talk to. Someone I could make a difference for. 
Me. 

The really sick thing is that I have torn myself apart for years trying finding every little thing to blame myself for; telling myself that I should’ve seen the signs, I should’ve listened when people warned me, I should’ve left sooner etc. Any victim blaming you could possibly think of, I’ve thought it and reprimanded myself over it.

Then, at some point, someone else came to me with her story. She told me everything she had experienced and described the blame she had cast on herself. You can probably assume I did not speak to her in the way I had been speaking to myself. I treated her with gentleness and kindness and I tried to give her as much love as I could. 

This was the moment it clicked for me. Why was I being so mean to myself? Why couldn’t I treat myself with the same kindness I was freely giving to others? 

I look back at pictures and videos from that time in my life and my heart aches for that girl. I honestly don’t even recognize her. When you’re 15 you think you’re grown up and ready to take on the world. You think you know everything there is to know. Now, looking back, as someone who’s about to turn 20, I just see a baby. I see a little girl with the life being drained out of her in the name of “young love”. I see a child fighting for her life. I see a girl whose light in her eyes has gone out. 

It’s important to note that abuse usually doesn’t start out with violence. It starts with little things and a whole lot of gaslighting and manipulation. By the time it gets to the point that most of us would call it abuse, you’re so wrapped up in the situation and the person that you can’t figure out which way is out. 

I knew if i fought back there was a good chance I wouldn’t make it out alive, so I did what I had to do. Eventually I had to forgive myself for doing what it took to survive in those moments and stop being so hard on myself and saying things like “you should’ve done” x, y, or z 

Unfortunately, my mindset at the time of my abuse was not “how can I leave this situation”, it was “how can I continue to love this person and stay alive”. 

So if I got the chance to talk to that 15 year old girl, to tell her everything she needs to know, here’s what I would say:

I would tell her to stop punishing herself for staying. I would say “Treat yourself with compassion and start blaming the abuser for the way he mistreated and manipulated you. There is nothing you could’ve done to deserve this abuse”.

I would sit her down, and ask her “if you allow him to treat you like this now, what else will you allow?” 
I would remind her that when someone shows you who they are the first time, you should believe them. 
I would tell her that this mistreatment is not indicative of her worth as a person. 
I would tell her that I am so proud of her, and that I love her, and others will love her, in a way that doesn’t involve violence. 
Then I would tell her that no real love encompasses violence, that people who love you speak to you with kindness even when they’re angry 
I would beg her to see that suffering does not make her brave. 
I would say “Staying in a situation where you are actively being harmed is not a testament to your love, it is putting your life in danger.” 

If I got to talk to 16 year old me, I would tell her of all the things that are coming for her.
She didn’t believe there would be an “after” to her abuse. She genuinely thought that was what the rest of her life was going to look like. She didn’t know that she deserved better, or that she could experience better. 
I would tell her about “The Gabby Project”, and all the people who have heard her story. I would tell her about Miss Banks of the Wabash, and about how she cried on stage giving her first ever “social impact pitch”. She would laugh in my face if I said that was brave. But truthfully, being completely vulnerable and sharing her story on a stage in front of everyone was so brave. 
I would look her in the eye and say “your bravery leads others. Your story educates and inspires. you get to advocate to save others from these experiences”. 
I would tell her about Miss Indiana and what a privilege it was to stand on a stage with 36 other incredible women and tell our story. 
I would tell her she didn’t go through this for nothing, and that her story doesn’t end with abuse. 
I would tell her that there is so much joy she has yet to experience, people who will love her, big and small victories to celebrate, and so much more. 
I’d say “you will feel safe in your own skin again. You will trust others again. You will experience true, genuine love from extraordinary people.” I’d remind her that “The light in your eyes will come back and you will not feel like this forever.” 
And tell her that her experiences are not her identity, and they will not control her life forever. Eventually there will come a day where it’s not the first thing you think of. There will be days where you don’t think about it at all, and I think there’s a certain amount of beauty in that. 

If I could talk to 17 year old me, 
I would tell her that if telling the truth paints someone as a bad person, then maybe they are a bad person. 
I would tell her that you can’t “ruin someone’s life” by telling the truth. It was never her job to take care of someone else’s reputation. 
I would tell her that the most important people will rally behind her, and the ones who don’t aren’t the kind of friends you want to keep. 
I would say “you coming forward might save someone’s life. It’ll save yours, and that’s enough for me. Stand tall and tell the truth even if your voice shakes while you do it” 
I would hug her again, commend her bravery, and thank her for her strength. 
After all, I carry her with me in everything I do. The strength of 17 year old me is what keeps me moving forward. Her bravery is what fuels my passion for advocacy. 
I would tell her I’m proud of her, and urge her to let her anger go. 
I think it’s hard not to be angry at first. Angry that no one noticed. Angry that no one came to save you. Angry that the people who were supposed to protect you couldn’t. Angry that you were mistreated in such a way. 
But anger doesn’t fix it and it certainly doesn’t erase it. 
I’d tell her “your anger has been your friend up to this point; your anger knows that you have been mistreated and wants better for you. but you can let it go and choose to heal and move forward.” 

There are things that you cannot understand until you live it. It’s kind of like a really awful club that you can only get into if you’ve seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer. Not just seen it, but been at the mercy of it and somehow not perpetuated the cycle. 
For some, it’s easy to say things like “why didn’t you just leave?” 
But abusers are masters of manipulation, and they’re really good at making you believe everything they tell you. ultimately, they make you believe that violence is love; that control is love. 
So, I sincerely hope that if you cannot fathom why someone would stay in an abusive relationship, I hope you never comprehend it. I hope you never understand the violence I endured to become this gentle. 

I hate the phrase “everything happens for a reason”. Yes I am stronger because of my abuse, but I didn’t need to be strong. I needed to be loved and cared for and protected. And honestly, what a slap in the face that phrase is to those that couldn’t make it out. Abuse is not poetic and it never has been. 
I do not have my abusers to thank for my strength. That came from within me, not from their actions. I refuse to give them credit for the person I have become. 
Honestly, how strong do you have to be to hurt a little girl? How strong do you think she has to be to get over it? Whose strength is more impressive? 

So to every version of me, that carried me through the darkest time in my life:
(And to anyone who is living it, or has survived it, too)
I love you. I owe my whole life to you. 
I’m proud of you. I believe you. Your bravery and strength do not go unnoticed. 
You deserve love that is gentle, kind, and soft. a love that does not hold grudges, does not react out of anger, does not instill fear. you deserve warmth and safety. I hope you find the strength to start over as many times as you need to until you find this. 
You will find a way to carve out space for your existence in a way that fulfills you and heals you. You will be more than okay, you will thrive in spite of it.