Story 3

I am terrified to put this post on paper. Though it’s been in my head and on my heart for quite some time, I never really knew if I’d get around to writing it.  And so I write it, kicking and screaming…knowing it needs to be written but not wanting to be the one to write it.

I am a survivor of sexual and emotional abuse.  The perpetrator was a youth pastor, and I was ages 15-18.  The abuse and the relational trauma that came afterwards has left a permanent scar within my memory and seared across my heart.

The pain that comes with any kind of trauma or abuse is something that I would never wish upon anyone.  I see myself often as two different people–who I was before my abuse and who I’ve become afterwards.  It is so traumatizing that my brain has shifted memories, identity, everything into those two categories.

Before my abuse, I was a pretty happy person.  Yeah, I had my down days but they were few and far between.  I was a choir nerd and loved Jesus, and that wasn’t particularly popular in my small high school.  But I generally liked who I was and I think I was liked by many of my peers.  I didn’t date much, didn’t get asked out much, but had a bestie that I was stuck to like glue.  I engaged well with teachers and many times would prefer hanging out with them rather than my peer group.  I didn’t drink and I didn’t smoke–I was a goody two shoes.  But I liked myself…I really did.  I liked the way I looked (as much as any teenager can I suppose), I liked the personality I had, and I liked the world I lived in.  It was safe and comforting.  It was home.

After my abuse, my entire worldview changed.  I suddenly feared everything.  Nothing was safe to me anymore and I didn’t know where to turn to feel safe anymore.  I feared others and their reaction to me and the proverbial scarlet “S” I was convinced was stitched on my chest.  Most of all, even above the fear, I hated myself.  Absolutely loathed myself.  I would look in the mirror and have to turn away because I hated the image looking back at me.  I was dirty, unclean, and ugly.  So, so ugly.

Any type of abuse changes your view of yourself and your world.  You are no longer safe and those who you love cannot be trusted.  Therefore, you trust no one.  You love no one.  You shut yourself off in an attempt to stitch yourself back together and become whole again when you feel so incredibly broken.

See, abuse digs into the deepest deep part of your soul.  It slithers its way in there, whispering of your worthlessness and your depravity.  And though you know those things may not be true, when your abuser comes at you again, you turn and see only the broken parts of yourself that used to make up who you were in one giant heap. Or if your abuse is over, it is not your abuser at you anymore, but the whispers of him and what he used to do to you that make you completely worthless now.

And so you medicate yourself with other relationships or alcohol or drugs or whatever it is that will take the edge off of how much you truly despise yourself.  Thus, the cycle continues because whatever you do in those relationships or during that drunken binge becomes another source of your whispering, telling you that you will never amount to anything useful anymore.

And then one day, you will turn and decide you don’t want to be that anymore.  And you will have the courage to stand up against the whispers and the worthlessness.  And when you ask, God will come and begin slowly to redeem those broken shadows and parts of you that you despise.

See, I am in the midst of the repairing.  I don’t know if I’ll ever not be in the midst of it, to be honest.  I medicate my wounds with relationships and affirmation from those in my life in whom I’ve put my trust.  If I don’t get that affirmation, the whispers come and sometimes I have the strength to stand against them with the truth of who God has made me to be.  But sometimes, friends, like this entire past week, I haven’t had the strength and I’ve sunk deep into the hole of self-loathing and hatred.  And just last night, I decided that I would turn, once again, towards the sun, and ask God to continue to bring His redemption in my life and onto my heart.  So I take one step forward, into the sunlight.  Its warmth and brightness catches me off guard, but as I catch my breath, the ache in my heart begins to ease and I know that God will continue to restore me to a healthier version of myself.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to the girl I was in high school.  I wish I could be totally naive to this world and the grief that can accompany our circumstances.  And yet, I know that I can’t and though I grieve for the loss of who I used to be, I know that God has and can continue to use my story to strengthen other survivors. My heart will never be the same.  Though it may be repaired someday, it will always bear the scars of my past.  I cannot escape it and until Jesus comes to take me home, I will carry it with me.  But it no longer will define me or break me.

If you have been abused, please know that I am so, so sorry for your heartbreak.  What happened to you wasn’t deserved and it wasn’t ok.  I hope and pray that your abuser will be brought to justice and that you can begin down the road towards healing.  I want to encourage you to bring your abuse to the light.  See, the shame and the guilt and the burden that many survivors carry around can thrive in the darkness.  Don’t stay in the blackness that can swallow you whole, dear friend.  Speak your story.  Speak to those around you and those you trust.  Speak until your voice cannot speak anymore.  Don’t hide it away.

And if you know someone who has been abused, handle them with grace and love.  Love them so much that they know they have someone in their corner.  Be stable for them.  Most of all, allow them to begin to heal without having all the answers or making promises you can’t keep.  Sit with them in their story, allowing them to process through–sometimes with words and sometimes with no words at all–and helping them to begin to build up their hearts once again.

Abuse is a part of my story.  But it no longer holds me in its grip.  I pray, friends, that you can turn towards the light and share your story, and help others to do the same.

11 Comments Add yours

  1. Bonnie says:

    Go girl! You vividly expressed the shame and self-loathing many people feel because of sexual abuse. But what we heard and experienced are lies from the pit of hell. You are beautiful, courageous, and are carrying out a desperately-needed purpose by sharing your faith-healing story. Thank you so much!!!


  2. Rachel says:

    Wow. You are so brave. You are inspiring. You are beautiful. I am blown away at how you have been able to not only survive but really work towards healing by turning towards the light and sharing your story. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are doing so well.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. beth says:

    Thank you for bringing your words into the light. You will definitely help others in their walk toward healing. You are brave and so, so strong for sharing. ❤


  4. Your voice, and your story, is going to help many others. Thank you for sharing it here. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  5. curiositycat says:

    I am so sorry for what happened to you. When it is someone you trust who hurts you, it can be hard to ever trust again. But you did it, you brave, beautiful person. You stepped into the sunlight, and you shared your story. So brave.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Kelly B says:

    Dearest One, How gracefully you expressed what must be such a difficult portrayal of your abuse. You are spot in; abusers may physically leave your life, but your broken psyche picks up their inner defamation left behind. I cannot begin to tell you how cathartic it will be, in time, to have discovered the place in your soul that chose to walk this path of healing. How ironic that your post arrived so close to Dr Martin Luther King Jrs Day. My most dear quite of his is about faith being the choice to take the first step without being able to see the whole staircase. You have done just that and in doing so, your words will serve to heal you AND the countless others who have read/will read them. Not all will be able to provide feedback, but your words will resound in each, gently guiding ithers to the road of healing. Blessings , peace and light.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. lizamryan says:

    You are so brave, you humble me. Keep walking in the light. You are important, your voice is needed. Walk did nothing wrong. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Hillary says:

    Not ugly. Not in the least. You are brave, and strong, and worthwhile. You are wonderful. Thank you for your bravery.

    Liked by 3 people

  9. Deb says:

    Brave girl, thank you for sharing and praying today as you turn toward the sun, it’s warmth will keep you coming back to the place where you feel loved & held & lovely. You are…loved & held & lovely.

    Liked by 3 people

  10. Katherine says:

    This summer, after a long drive to our usual vacation spot, I was sitting on the deck, enjoying the gorgeous sunset. My husband was calling the boys and me for dinner, but I couldn’t go in because I was entranced by a flower. All the other flowers in the large pot were facing every which way. But this one. This one was facing the setting sun, head tilted ever so slightly up, catching the breathtaking reds and oranges of the sun with it’s soft pinks and yellows. It was shameless the way it reached for the light and reflected its brilliance in the unique way only it could. I realized then that is how I want to live — head tilted toward the Light, doing all I can to reflect Him. I thought of this again when I read your story. You are doing it. You are living like this flower. Sister, know: You are brave. You are beautiful. You are worthy. You are so very loved.

    Liked by 3 people

  11. Thank you for sharing your story and continuing to walk into the sunlight. That one step is the hardest I’d imagine. You are braver than I can even say. Keep walking forward friend.

    Liked by 3 people

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