My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell

I read this book in 24 hours.
Not to brag — just to highlight how consuming it is.

Books about abuse hit differently every time.

Sometimes, they follow a familiar arc: the abuser is exposed, justice is served, a parent or friend swoops in like a last-minute lifeline. Cue the resolution. Closure. A sense of safety restored.

But not in My Dark Vanessa.

No one sees her. No one swoops in. She is achingly alone — so isolated it makes you want to crawl into the pages, wrap your arms around her, and say:
It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.

She is suffocating in plain sight.
Her body language tells the whole story - if only someone were listening.

Vanessa was 15 — sharp, observant, and desperate for something different. She got into Browick on a scholarship, but getting her parents to say yes took more than just good grades.

She came armed with a 20-point list of reasons why boarding school was the right choice. The recent Columbine shooting gave her argument an edge — a reminder of how dangerous public high schools could be.

They agreed.
But she had no idea what she was walking into.

Vanessa’s relationship with her parents was delicate.
Her mother cried over small things and clung to ideas of how normal girls should act. Her father was quieter in his neglect — a man who let the TV do most of the talking, content to sit still while time drifted past him.

Vanessa learned to keep her real self tucked away.

Boarding school felt like a portal.
New friends, new adventures, new possibilities.

But she didn’t know she was stepping into a storm.

"Fiona Apple was raped when she was 12 years old ... I had no reason to care about rape then - I was a lucky kid, safe and securely loved - but that story hit me hard. Somehow I sensed what was coming for me even then. Really though, what girl doesn't? They drill the danger into your head until it starts to feel inevitable. It looms over you, that threat of violence. You grow up wondering when it's finally going to happen."

This book will make you doubt people — and that’s not a bad thing.

It will make you look twice. Pay closer attention to the adults in the lives of your daughters, your sisters, your friends.

Because here’s the ugly truth:
We ignore the signs.
We question the victim.
We shame the abused.

And the abusers count on that.
They thrive in our hesitation — in our need for certainty, in our discomfort with confronting evil in plain clothes.

They exploit our doubt.
They know we’ll ask, “But is she really a victim?”

How did we get here?

Because the reality is:
The world isn’t looking to save all the Vanessas.

It’s easier to pretend these things don’t happen.
To blame the victim.

She started it.
She came onto him.
She’s just as guilty as he is.

How broken is a society that places blame on a child — while a 42-year-old man maintains full control?

My Dark Vanessa will challenge you.

You will get upset.
You will scream at her to wake up, to see the truth.
But as the abuse spreads — like ink in water, like blood blooming through fabric — it stains everything.

It tightens the rope around her throat.
She is drowning. And even when help is offered, she can’t take it.
Because by then, she doesn’t believe she deserves it.

She has no voice.
She’s punished, expelled, paraded in front of her peers like she’s the problem.

One by one, everyone erases her.
Exiled by trauma she never chose.

"That seems the likely ending to this love story: me dropping everything and doing anything, devoted as a dog, as he takes and takes and takes."

But she is brave. Damn is she ever brave.

And that’s the point of this book.
My Dark Vanessa doesn’t exist to soothe or redeem.

It holds up a mirror.

To the way we fail victims.
To the way we demand they behave a certain way before we believe them.
To the way abusers move through the world — protected by charm, by power, by our silence.

Unlike most stories of abuse, Vanessa doesn’t see her abuser as a villain.
Their relationship is built on what she believes is mutual respect — he loves her, worships her, always asking permission...
Permission to rape? To manipulate?

Vanessa is fictional. But her story is not.
Girls like her are everywhere — silenced, shamed, erased by the very people who should protect them.

If this story teaches us anything, let it be this:
Believe the girl. Pay attention to what’s being said — and what isn’t.

Speak up, even when it’s uncomfortable.
And never, ever place the weight of guilt on a child’s shoulders.

Because the world may not be looking to save all the Vanessas —
but we can start by refusing to look away.

"I gave so much power to someone else, a power I can never really take back."

My Dark Vanessa is an absolutely explosive book from Kate Elizabeth Russell.

Thanks for reading,

Sheila

P.S. If this post made you think — don't keep it to yourself— pass it along.