Dear [email protected],
I’m a grown ass woman.
I never imagined being bullied as a grown woman, but, yet, here I am. About a week ago, I was a grown ass woman who, first the time in her life, felt completely helpless and worthless. I felt like I was nothing, and I didn’t matter. I was ready to give up on everything.
When you sent me the first anonymous email on 8/1/15, I physically felt sick. Your message was direct, regarding a very specific situation in my life that is primarily unknown. Since you chose a random email address, with a username of “Friend Ofafriend,” I had no way of identifying who you really were. It was such a strange feeling, knowing someone had so much personal information about me, yet they were faceless and nameless.
I’ve been overcome with anxiety, fear, sadness, and, almost, insanity. I felt helpless. As the emails continued, they became more personal. Let me remind you of some of the things you’ve said to me:
Have you considered plastic surgery?
Have you been scorned by multiple men? That’s sad. Very sad.
You need professional help. Please get some.
Please don’t delude yourself into thinking you are responding to anything.
No one is emailing you.
No one is wondering how you are.
You have no authority that extends to the Internet, in fact, you have no authority at all.
Your adolescent emails and text messages are sent to XXXXXX for informational purposes and anyone else we choose to send them to.
Researching uncovers the most surprising information through public records.
Speaking of police, try not to assault any of them.
You’re the scorned woman who just won’t go away.
No one cares about you.
We are left to assume that the PD found you as big of a joke as we do.
You don’t even know me. I’m not perfect, and I never claimed to be. I’ve made more mistakes in my life than most people (as you enjoyed reminding me), but I’ve dealt with it all. Even when I’ve been down, I’ve always been strong. I can cope in most any situation and move forward. This was different. Over the past 4 months, I’ve experienced more pain and hurt from issues that started when I was 3 years old. I had so many emotions that were pinned up for so long, and everything was finally released. It’s been a wild heap of emotions, but I was working on my life. I didn’t expect you to know that, but I tried to relate to you so many times. I started by confirming who you were after. You confirmed it was me. I came back confirming you weren’t like the man who broke into my apartment in the middle of the night after calling 911 and reporting “a rape in progress,” in 2003. You denied my safety again. I begged you, and you specifically told me that you would never confirm anything. I was scared, concerned and confused, but I thought you were gone. I had 5 days of peace, but, then you came back again.
What you didn’t know was, at that very moment, my world was already falling apart. As I was working to pick up the pieces and move forward, you came along. Clearly, you believed I deserved to hurt and feel tremendous pain. I was in a dark spot, and I was ready to give up. In my darkest moment, I only reached out to one person (and, of course, I believe you are very much aware of that). The only person I reached out to that evening further isolated me and made light of my feelings. I asked them to call me. But, they didn’t call. In fact, that person cares so little about me they simply told me to “sleep it off.” I was more alone than I’d ever been in my life.
I’ve always stood up to bullies, but I couldn’t stand up to you. You can’t stand up to a ghost. Over time, I became more and more worn down, until I reached a breaking point that night. I even told you that. I challenged you to keep making me feel worthless. You won. The next day, I quickly fell back into the same place. In fact, it got worse.
Why couldn’t you relate to me enough when I told you about my prior stalker and sitting in fear, waiting to die? Why couldn’t you relate to me when I begged to know who you were so I could sleep at night? Why couldn't you understand my concerns for my family? Why didn’t you respond when I told you I was ready to give up? What did you gain from this torment?
I had so many questions for you. That day, however, I reached out to the people in my life who really do care about me. I was amazed at their support, and how quickly I went from feeling so low to like myself again. I realized how much you were controlling my life, all behind a mask.
Since you’ve had the experience of knowing me as a woman who was defeated, exhausted and feeling worthless, let me introduce you to who I really am.
I love my family dearly. I never understood how much I could love someone until I had my children. I try to make eye when I'm talking to someone. I’m an empath. I’m extremely sensitive. I’m an introvert. I am highly anxious in social settings. Small, confined spaces really freak me out. I love babies and animals, even weird creepy ones (weird creepy animals, not babies ... nobody likes weird creepy babies ... only kidding). I'm pretty darn hilarious. I remember lyrics to songs, even after only hearing them once. I am incredibly intuitive. I really dislike mean people, especially bullies. I’ve always identified as an outcast and an underdog. I value relationships dearly. I cried everyday at school from Kindergarten to 4th grade because I was too worried my Mom wasn’t going to be there to pick me up. I have a deep fear of being abandoned. When my first boyfriend told me he loved me, I thought he was never going to talk to me again afterwards and cried all night. I love playing Cards Against Humanity with my sister and brother. I’ve had some of my best and most memorable conversations with random people in bars. I could probably eat a big, juicy, medium-rare ribeye steak everyday. I don't really like sharing food or drinks. I hate conflict, and I want to resolve any negativity as quickly as possible. I don’t understand how people get so wrapped up in watching sports. I am quietly defiant in many situations. I'm an extreme skeptic. I don’t care what random people think of me. If I grow to care about you, I always will. I'm grounded (excluding the past few months). People, even strangers, confide in me. I never felt good enough. I've always felt the need to prove my independence. I love music. I love going to the park, even as an adult, and swinging.
I delivered my second son, Brock, who passed away, walked (yes, I refused the wheelchair) out of the hospital just hours later, planned his funeral the next day and, a few days later, watched as my baby’s casket was lowered into the ground. When most people are hanging Welcome Baby signs on the outside of their door, we had a black wreath. I would never wish that situation on anyone, not even you. Not even you, who, after I told you how low I felt and was ready to give up, responded with "no one cares about you."
I feel sorry for you. I'm sorry that you hurt and take pleasure in hurting me. I like to make people feel good and relate to them. Humans relate to humans, and, if you understood that, your life could be full of beautiful moments. You won in the short-term, but guess what?
You reminded me of who I am, and I want to thank you for that.
I’m a grown ass woman.