Dear N; a letter written in 2020

Written by: Tamar Simone Weir

Note: The photos included in this blog are photos from 2020 era and I am using a pseudonym for the purpose of not putting every detail of this story on the internet.

"Dear N ,                                         

I was debating sending you this letter, as I know we ended in chaotic and rough terms, and have not spoken to each other in quite a while, but have decided to send this for myself, my healing, and to look back knowing I have said all that I need to say. Give it a read if you wish and thanks for reading this.

This is hard for me to write because the foundation of our relationship is hard to grasp, and was hard to grasp. For clarity’s sake, I will start from the beginning. 

I walked alone to your van parked in the Merrill parking lot. We sat in the dim light darkness of your van bed. I told you I had genital herpes, so fearful of your reaction, so desperately wanting to be accepted and respected by you. From the start, I felt that you were at a higher level than me; like a moth addicted to a light bulb. I told you I had herpes. Since I found out, you were the first person I told, the First person I fucked. Because of that pressure, I did not let the fact that you were not planning on telling me bother me, although deep down it felt invasive and wrong. I thought that because we both had herpes that had meant you accepted and respected me, and that we were on the same playing field. After reflection, I now know that you did not regard me as someone to treat with respect, or else you would have shown me the same honesty as I had with you. 

Not telling someone you are having sex with, forming a connection to, and being physically/ emotionally intimate with that you have genital herpes is deceiving even if you do not have a current outbreak at that moment. The fact of the matter is that if I had not told you I had herpes that night, you would not have told me until it was convenient for you. Until you felt like it. Until I happened upon that information. This may come as a shock to you as I may not have verbally expressed how this had affected me but living life with intention and honesty is something that I value and the experience I am drawing upon as it has shaped the way I form connections in the midst of having an STI. 

Another experience that left me feeling shame and powerless was the time I told you I did not want to have sex because I was doing ayahuasca. You did not listen. You made me feel dumb for wanting to have a boundary and sticking to my wants and needs. You kept pushing me. You kept questioning me. You did what you wanted. And yes I was horny. Technically speaking, I did have an orgasm, but the pleasure I felt was tainted by this manipulation. I felt wronged. I felt invaded, I felt weak. And I also felt angry that you would not respect my boundaries--that you would not respect me enough to explore beyond the physical act of sex. 

The above two examples highlight the power difference in our relationship and the ways in which this dynamic affected my relationship with you. I could never be myself with you. With you, I had to be strong, show you my best side, show you I was cool, show you I was enough for you. if not, I feared you’d drop me. I anticipated your judgment of the inner parts of me, so I presented myself to you in this way. While I accepted you and did whatever you pleased, I was forced to hide the parts of me you did not like. 

Oftentimes, the nature of our relationship was established by your tendencies to gaslight me. This continued to the point where I started to feel that my opinions weren’t seen as valuable to you, weren’t seen as worthy or enough for you to even consider. I also want to highlight the ways you often undermined my knowledge and life experience by means of your age difference and “maturity.” This tactic was also coupled with your masculine energy and ego, which created distance and superiority. 

I do not write this with the intention to make you feel ashamed. If you read this with defensiveness, I welcome you to engage with those feelings. I acknowledge that you have an experience that is different from mine. But if you have read this far, please go up and read this again to truly listen  and hear me. 

While our relationship may not be significant to you, it is for me. You were the first person who showed me what life could be like for me as a young college student who was passionate, sexually confident, and curious. You taught me about alternative ways of living, you encouraged play, you exuded passion, you created connection. And these are many positive things you brought to our relationship that I am forever thankful for and look back on with pure love and joy. You created a metamorphosis in some ways in my being, where I fully came to some deep realizations. After being with you, and ending in the way we did, I could visualize the modes of being I needed for my next relationship. This also meant I could disregard all the components I needed to absolutely reject. I send this to you now to express the fact that these aspects that did not serve me in our relationship persisted in my body as I continued to drift back to memories of our time together. I wanted to express this sour bitterness on my tongue, this tension in my stomach, this anger in my heart for not telling you how I felt. Because you never gave me the space or opportunity to speak while you sat there and just listened, I have chosen to communicate to you in this form.

Although, I feel that I  have healed from our relationship, I send this to remove the physical weight of you from my body. While I am confident in myself and what I desire in my future relationships, I am concerned for the other partnerships you have had. This reflection made me want to speak up not only for myself, but also for other partners you may have had who could feel similarly to me. N, you were unwilling to step into my pain. I encourage you to investigate this quality in yourself, to engage in a dialogue with yourself about the harm you have caused. While I do not expect or need a response from you, I sincerely hope that you take this letter to heart, not only for myself but for you and those who continue to be intertwined in your life. 

Thank You.

Tamar Weir"

This week I was too busy to write a new blog post, but in my reflection over the last 5 years, I thought I would bring this old letter back to the surface. To bring to light something that is not often talked about (lack of consent, twisted ways of presenting as communicative/ sexually liberated, harm).

If you have some things to share, and some thoughts and emotions stuck in your body, I have found writing letters as an extremely powerful tool. While this exercise may not resonate with everyone, you can adapt this to connect with your needs in a deeper way. For instance, writing the letter in your journal and never sending it, burning the letter, drawing instead of writing, reading the letter out loud in the mirror, ripping the letter, acting out the scene of reading the letter with a trusted friend/loved one, and the variations can go on and on and on..

Affirmation: I honor all the versions of Tamar.

xoxo