You know the old saying..there are three sides to every story; her side, his side and somewhere in the middle lies the truth. This comes to mind as I peruse the news stories and the media hooplah surrounding the open letter Dylan Farrow, adopted daughter of Mia Farrow and Woody Allen, wrote which was recently published in the the New York Times Op Ed.
The letter recounts the story of how Woody Allen sexually abused Dylan when she was a young child of eight years old in her mother's house. The fallout has lit up a firestorm of commentary, opinions and open discussion of sexual abuse, thereby causing Woody Allen to publish a rebuttal in the New York Times this past Sunday.
She said. He said.
When I read Dylan's open letter, my heart went out to that little girl, laying on her stomach in the "closet like room in the attic". The letter, published earlier this month, was in response to the Cecil B. DeMille Lifetime Achievement Award Allen was given by his peers at January's Golden Globe Awards. Dylan Farrow wanted everyone to know what she has always known. I have to wonder what she would have to gain by publicly outing this dark secret, except complete redemption from a victim to a perp. Why else?
Then there's his response. Throughout his rebuttal were these words:
I wrote them down. Each one indicative of anger, deceit and bitterness. These words were not so much directed at Dylan but at her mother, Mia Farrow. Herin lies the crux of this story. The failed relationship between Allen and Farrow. The children somehow became fallout and maybe Dylan believed that her story became a victim of that fallout too. Maybe that's why she wrote the letter.
He said, she said. Somewhere in the middle....
The sad truth is what the judge in this case said many years ago when bringing this litigation to a close; we may never know the truth.
Because whatever the truth is now lost to all but the two people who know it. What we are left with is a peek into this dark story and our opinions. Some on his side, some on her side.
And the rest of us? We too, fall somewhere in the middle.