In my home, there was discord between my parents, my mother and my paternal grandmother, my oldest brother and my father, my other brother and me. My father would hit my mother, my mother would put a large dresser before the door so my father would stay out or she'd take me for a long walk until he cooled down.
I was the youngest, only girl and my brothers said I was spoiled. My mother over-protected me. I grew up feeling like there was something wrong with me and that feeling stuck for most of my life.
I wanted to be made to feel like I 'belonged' somewhere....so I found some misfit kids like myself and learned to drink beer and smoke cigarettes. Eventually, I started stealing my grandmother's tranquilizers and sleeping pills. Then I moved on to smoking pot, trying hard drugs....anything to make me forget that I was 'different'.
I drifted into promiscuity. I was looking for love and acceptance. That road led me to being sexually used by boys who were older and experienced. Eventually, I was sexually abused by adult men-friends of my father, my 'godfather' and gang-raped at 14.
To say that my views on relationships, normal relationships, are skewed is an understatement. In my mind, the only thing that men really ever wanted was sex. This idea was never far from me and kept me feeling insecure about myself and anyone I was with.
These insecurities were what I was desperately trying to get rid of when I found the Lord. Before that moment in October of '85, I was ruminating in the horrors of the rape I experienced. It would pop into my head and I couldn't make it stop. I never told my parents about it. It happened at a time when I was a run away and so very vulnerable. I felt it was all my fault, a punishment for leaving my parents.
When I became a Christian, the awful thoughts were taken from me and I was filled with a peace I never had before. God had cleansed me and healed me. I was brand new!
I had no idea what kind of adventure God was going to put me on but at the time, I didn't care...I just wanted to be in church and worship. I felt better about myself in church. I was learning, people were so kind and I felt that finally I DID belong.
This would be a happy ending if I hadn't been programmed by the messages I was given as I grew up: men only want you for one thing, my duty is to take care of my husband, my career is being at home, that is what mom did...she cooked and cleaned and watched the soaps. Your husband is to handle everything. Women aren't really capable....on and on.
This programming made me perfect fodder for the IFB cults. I now had a specific role to fill and so did my husband. When he says something, listen and be obedient. He is the head of the family and you are subservient. There is no choice, it's cut and dried and don't argue because that's un-biblical!
I left behind my dreams. I didn't dare dream. I looked around one day and realized that I was getting older, my body was worn out and I was cut off from anyone that wasn't in the church. I heard my ex-husband say, " Women don't need to have friends, they need to stay home and keep busy with the kids. It's only trouble when they go out of the house."
Maybe God wanted me to walk that route so one day I would be awakened and see the truth. I don't know. I do know that everything happens for a reason. Now I have a partner in my life who teaches me to respect myself . It doesn't mean I have to serve him 24/7 to be right with God. He takes care of me and I take care of him.
I am still plagued with other memories. It's hard not to be triggered sometimes. I used to get panic attacks thinking about my past. I used to allow the past to rule over my future. Every now and then, a memory will pop into my head and I cry.
I am learning to live day to day and keep my eyes on the Lord by reading His word and keeping Him close. We don't go to church but we start each day with God's word and with prayer. For now, that seems enough.
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