An Open Letter From Dylan Farrow
By DYLAN FARROW What’s your favorite Woody Allen movie? Before you answer, you should know: when I was seven years old, Woody Allen took me by the hand and led me into a dim, closet-like attic on the second floor of our house. He told me to lay on my stomach and play with my brother’s electric train set. Then he sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we’d go to Paris and I’d be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train, focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day, I find it difficult to look at toy trains. ...........................
Today,
I consider myself lucky. I am happily married. I have the support of my
amazing brothers and sisters. I have a mother who found within herself a
well of fortitude that saved us from the chaos a predator brought into
our home.
But
others are still scared, vulnerable, and struggling for the courage to
tell the truth. The message that Hollywood sends matters for them.
That’s something for all of us, even those who aren’t stars, to reflect on.
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