Over the next few days I am going to be putting to light the emotions that attack us, control us, and can potentially destroy us. These emotions leave us surrounded in silent darkness. They leave us blinded; locked away in a dark room and we can't find the door. Everyone at some point experiences these kinds of emotions. But for those of us that have endured the pain of child abuse, those emotions can take such a hold and drown out anything good around us. We can be surrounded by beauty and wonder and not even take notice. That hope we've been waiting for can be staring us in the face, and we look the other way.
So, I have decided to attack three of these emotions back by facing them head-on and forcing them into the light. These emotions are fear, anger, and hate. These emotions have been set into motion by the ones that hurt us. Used as a tool to control and tear us down. For those of us that are christians, we know that they are tools used by the Enemy of our awesome and merciful God. Satan uses them to distract us from the goodness and hope that God is offering us. And if we can shatter each of these tools of his, we can shatter his hold on us and finally have the peace and freedom God wants for us.
So, be looking for my new posts. I hope they are helpful for you. And thanks again for visiting. God Bless.
In order for an abuser to control their victims, they have to instill fear in them. And they also have to work to tear down any bit of self-esteem the victim might have left. They are demeaning. They constantly criticize you. My dad would laugh at you if you expressed your feelings. That made you less likely to express yourself for fear of being ridiculed. My sisters would do the same, but they were just kids and victims of my father as well. I remember so many times when my father was praised at how well his kids behaved. Yes, we behaved but for the wrong reasons. We were afraid to take one step out of line because we knew how quick his hand would fly out to strike us. My dad would demand respect but never once showed us how good it was to be respected. So we didn't respect him, and worse, we didn't respect ourselves. How can you respect yourself when you are made to feel like worthless garbage?
As I became a teenager, I had built up a good amount of anger inside of me. And I stopped caring about what my dad said or did. I hated him so much and all I wanted to do was express that hate. I lashed out at everyone around me because I didn't know where to put my anger. Sometimes, I didn't even know who to be angry at. One time, when I was fifteen, I was grumbling about something and my dad told me to watch my attitude. So I told him to watch his attitude. He took me downstairs and threw me across the room. Then, before I could pull my self up, he approached me and began kicking me with his steel-toed boots. Then he picked me up and threw me to the other side of the room and repeated the process. He did that several times before he decided it was enough. And I learned not to pop off at him anymore. But not because I respected him. I hated him even more. And yes, his daughters were perfect little angels on the outside. But scared and angry on the inside.
Once my dad was out of the picture, and I tasted freedom for the first time, the decisions I made would effect me for the rest of my life. I gave up on school because of a deep depression I had sunk into. And my mom felt so bad about what happened she didn't want to force me to do anything I didn't want to. I ended up working at Burger King and moved out with a friend at eighteen. I was exposed to alcohol and started to drink. I wasn't close to turning to alcoholism in anyway. I was lucky not to have the weakness for drug or alcohol addiction. So many kids that have been through abuse are not so lucky. But under-age drinking is certainly nothing to grin at. Especially since you are just to young to be responsible about it. And by the time I was nineteen I was pregnant with a drug-addict's baby. I thought I loved him but I had no idea what love was. And I didn't love myself, so how could I truly love anyone else? It wasn't too long into my pregnancy that I knew I would be raising my child by myself. It was my love for my child that pulled me out of the mess of the life I was in. I got my GED so I could work in a better job. But being a single mom is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Especially when you are raising a boy that desperately craves a father figure in his life.
The last thirteen, going on fourteen years, have been a long road for both me and my son. I have had to leave him in day cares so I could work. Some of them turned out to be pretty bad environments for him. And he began showing anger issues at a very young age. By the age of ten he was leaving bruises on me. He would fly into rages and become dangerous to himself and everyone around him. And there didn't seem to be any help in sight. I finally made the heartbreaking decision to place him in a children's home for a year. It was the hardest decision I made and even harder when the day came that I actually had to take him there and walk away from him. He was an hour away and I cried all the way home. But that time helped the both of us. He is home now and he has made so many improvements. And I have been able to learn different ways of handling him. But I get a lot of criticism from those that think I am too easy on him. But I hate yelling. And I hate physical punishment. Or the use of demeaning words. I know all too well how much it hurts. So I choose a quieter approach. He still has consequences for his bad behavior, but I refuse to disrespect him, even when he is being nasty to me or my husband. My husband and I recently took a Love and Logic parenting class and we are slowly applying the techniques to our parenting skills. And I can see the changes. It is a work in progress, but I just rejoice in any progress that is made for the better. And it is helping my son's confidence in himself. Because he is being held accountable for his decisions in a loving way. And he is given the trust and respect to make those decisions, and the opportunity to learn from the bad ones he makes. Building a relationship of love and respect is so much better than using fear to control him. And when people criticize because they expect my hand to rise in anger when my son misbehaves, I simply explain that I'm not looking for short term results. I'm looking for long term results that will enable my son to grow up a confident and strong young man that knows how to make the best decisions for his own life. Because I won't always be there to make them for him.
As I became a teenager, I had built up a good amount of anger inside of me. And I stopped caring about what my dad said or did. I hated him so much and all I wanted to do was express that hate. I lashed out at everyone around me because I didn't know where to put my anger. Sometimes, I didn't even know who to be angry at. One time, when I was fifteen, I was grumbling about something and my dad told me to watch my attitude. So I told him to watch his attitude. He took me downstairs and threw me across the room. Then, before I could pull my self up, he approached me and began kicking me with his steel-toed boots. Then he picked me up and threw me to the other side of the room and repeated the process. He did that several times before he decided it was enough. And I learned not to pop off at him anymore. But not because I respected him. I hated him even more. And yes, his daughters were perfect little angels on the outside. But scared and angry on the inside.
Once my dad was out of the picture, and I tasted freedom for the first time, the decisions I made would effect me for the rest of my life. I gave up on school because of a deep depression I had sunk into. And my mom felt so bad about what happened she didn't want to force me to do anything I didn't want to. I ended up working at Burger King and moved out with a friend at eighteen. I was exposed to alcohol and started to drink. I wasn't close to turning to alcoholism in anyway. I was lucky not to have the weakness for drug or alcohol addiction. So many kids that have been through abuse are not so lucky. But under-age drinking is certainly nothing to grin at. Especially since you are just to young to be responsible about it. And by the time I was nineteen I was pregnant with a drug-addict's baby. I thought I loved him but I had no idea what love was. And I didn't love myself, so how could I truly love anyone else? It wasn't too long into my pregnancy that I knew I would be raising my child by myself. It was my love for my child that pulled me out of the mess of the life I was in. I got my GED so I could work in a better job. But being a single mom is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Especially when you are raising a boy that desperately craves a father figure in his life.
The last thirteen, going on fourteen years, have been a long road for both me and my son. I have had to leave him in day cares so I could work. Some of them turned out to be pretty bad environments for him. And he began showing anger issues at a very young age. By the age of ten he was leaving bruises on me. He would fly into rages and become dangerous to himself and everyone around him. And there didn't seem to be any help in sight. I finally made the heartbreaking decision to place him in a children's home for a year. It was the hardest decision I made and even harder when the day came that I actually had to take him there and walk away from him. He was an hour away and I cried all the way home. But that time helped the both of us. He is home now and he has made so many improvements. And I have been able to learn different ways of handling him. But I get a lot of criticism from those that think I am too easy on him. But I hate yelling. And I hate physical punishment. Or the use of demeaning words. I know all too well how much it hurts. So I choose a quieter approach. He still has consequences for his bad behavior, but I refuse to disrespect him, even when he is being nasty to me or my husband. My husband and I recently took a Love and Logic parenting class and we are slowly applying the techniques to our parenting skills. And I can see the changes. It is a work in progress, but I just rejoice in any progress that is made for the better. And it is helping my son's confidence in himself. Because he is being held accountable for his decisions in a loving way. And he is given the trust and respect to make those decisions, and the opportunity to learn from the bad ones he makes. Building a relationship of love and respect is so much better than using fear to control him. And when people criticize because they expect my hand to rise in anger when my son misbehaves, I simply explain that I'm not looking for short term results. I'm looking for long term results that will enable my son to grow up a confident and strong young man that knows how to make the best decisions for his own life. Because I won't always be there to make them for him.
Growing up, we went to church 3 times a week. The church we went to had a handful of preachers that took turns giving the sermon. My dad was one of them. I would watch him deliver the most riveting and passionate lessons. I watched everyone crowd around to compliment his lesson and look at him like he was such a great christian man. It made my stomach turn. Because as soon as no one else was looking, he took off the mask to reveal the twisted, controlling, sick person he truly was.
In the end, it all helped my spirituality instead of hurting it. Oh, I've struggled and had my times where I was pretty far from God. But I started looking for the truth on my own, without following something just because someone else told me it was right. Even in my darkest times, when I have allowed myself to stray far away from God, I look back and remember His presence when I felt completely alone. Even when I was a confused and hurting little girl, He was constantly there. I would close myself up in my room and shut the rest of the world out. That's when I felt Him the most. Just God and me. Sometimes I would be inspired to write poems, listen to music, or just stay there in silence. This was my safe place. My dad hated it. He called it my "hole". He would force me to "come out of my hole" while he sat me down in front of my mom and sisters and give a two hour lecture about my "bad attitude". I would just pick a spot on the wall and stare at it and wait for it to be over so I could go back to my room.
But I am grateful for the experiences I have had. I have been able to open up my heart and mind and listen to His true message. His message of mercy and compassion and love for all humankind. So many people get caught up in the ritual just so they can say they did their part but they completely miss the point. They miss the love part. They start to look at others like they are better or their church is the only denomination that is going to make it to heaven. But God wants us to love everyone. And we don't have to preach to everyone we meet in order to save their souls. Sometimes, by simply living by example, and showing kindness to others, that is all it takes. Preaching to people who have rejected God, especially those that have rejected God because of the actions of so-called Christians, will usually push them farther and farther away. There have been times in the workplace where others have gone off on a hate speech against Christians. And I have always let them talk and heard them out. While letting them know that I am a Christian myself. You see, the sad thing is, so many people have been surprised to hear that I am a Christian because of my kindness. There is something truly wrong with that. But after some time of treating them like they are valuable people, but never once preaching the gospel to them, they tell me that of all the Christians they've known, that I am the only one they have come across that is a "true Christian".
Too many people go to church and put on their masks. They put on their act to show everyone what a great Christian they are. But when the mask is peeled away, and the true person is revealed, those that put them on a pedestal are left dumbfounded, crushed, and angry. And a lot of them turn away from God completely. That's the kind of Christian my dad was. And I thank God every day that I was able to still find Him...or maybe He found me...in all of the ugliness and pain. So, to everyone, no matter what you believe, you are loved, you are valuable, and no one is more important than you. God loves all His children and wants everyone to come to know Him. I'm so sorry for any Christian that has ever hurt you. And I promise, it was not part of the work of God. Even if they told you it was.
In the end, it all helped my spirituality instead of hurting it. Oh, I've struggled and had my times where I was pretty far from God. But I started looking for the truth on my own, without following something just because someone else told me it was right. Even in my darkest times, when I have allowed myself to stray far away from God, I look back and remember His presence when I felt completely alone. Even when I was a confused and hurting little girl, He was constantly there. I would close myself up in my room and shut the rest of the world out. That's when I felt Him the most. Just God and me. Sometimes I would be inspired to write poems, listen to music, or just stay there in silence. This was my safe place. My dad hated it. He called it my "hole". He would force me to "come out of my hole" while he sat me down in front of my mom and sisters and give a two hour lecture about my "bad attitude". I would just pick a spot on the wall and stare at it and wait for it to be over so I could go back to my room.
But I am grateful for the experiences I have had. I have been able to open up my heart and mind and listen to His true message. His message of mercy and compassion and love for all humankind. So many people get caught up in the ritual just so they can say they did their part but they completely miss the point. They miss the love part. They start to look at others like they are better or their church is the only denomination that is going to make it to heaven. But God wants us to love everyone. And we don't have to preach to everyone we meet in order to save their souls. Sometimes, by simply living by example, and showing kindness to others, that is all it takes. Preaching to people who have rejected God, especially those that have rejected God because of the actions of so-called Christians, will usually push them farther and farther away. There have been times in the workplace where others have gone off on a hate speech against Christians. And I have always let them talk and heard them out. While letting them know that I am a Christian myself. You see, the sad thing is, so many people have been surprised to hear that I am a Christian because of my kindness. There is something truly wrong with that. But after some time of treating them like they are valuable people, but never once preaching the gospel to them, they tell me that of all the Christians they've known, that I am the only one they have come across that is a "true Christian".
Too many people go to church and put on their masks. They put on their act to show everyone what a great Christian they are. But when the mask is peeled away, and the true person is revealed, those that put them on a pedestal are left dumbfounded, crushed, and angry. And a lot of them turn away from God completely. That's the kind of Christian my dad was. And I thank God every day that I was able to still find Him...or maybe He found me...in all of the ugliness and pain. So, to everyone, no matter what you believe, you are loved, you are valuable, and no one is more important than you. God loves all His children and wants everyone to come to know Him. I'm so sorry for any Christian that has ever hurt you. And I promise, it was not part of the work of God. Even if they told you it was.
For a long time I fought depression and feelings of worthlessness. I allowed others to tear me down and criticize me. I did what others wanted instead of what I knew was right or best for me. It took years to finally reach my boiling point. I had friends that, well, as they say, with friends like that who needs enemies? I let family members criticize and slander me. All the while I just kept trying to win them over by basically letting them control me. I let them chew me up and spit me out, bringing my son along for the ride. I dated guys that treated me like I was something they could use and throw me out with the garbage when they were done with me.
I don't know when it actually happened, but I reached a point where my life was so low I had only two options. (no, suicide wasn't one of them...thankfully I have never been tempted to take my own life as others have.) But I knew I could either stay in my condition and live in misery while watching my little boy suffer with me, or I could pull myself up and start fresh. I would have to weed out those that were unhealthy in my life. Those that wanted to see me fail time and time again. Or took pleasure in spreading a nasty rumor, just to make their own lives look better. I suddenly stopped caring about what others thought or said. I could spend the rest of my life trying unsuccessfully to convince them I wasn't the person they made me out to be. Or try to make them feel bad for how they had treated me. I had to come to the conclusion that they would never change. The only person I can control is myself, and if anyone wants to spread a lie or criticize me for something I may have done wrong, they can knock themselves out. When all was said and done, I found that I had very few people left in my life. But the ones that were left were my true family and friends. Those that loved me for who I was. Those that hurt when I hurt and rejoiced when I was happy. I consider my life so much more full now then it was when I had more people in it. I still pray for those I left behind, that they can overcome their own pain and insecurities and stop hurting others to help their own image of self worth. Because at the end of the day, they must be pretty miserable.
Somewhere, in the process of weeding out all the unhealthy people in my life, I met my husband. I was finally at the point where I knew what I wanted, or rather, didn't want. He was someone I could talk to for hours and still want to talk some more. He treated me with respect and valued what I had to say. I found myself missing him when he wasn't around. And when the time came, and someone that I had cut from my life decided to try and push back in and destroy our relationship with lies, he stood by my side because he knew me better. Without at word, he showed his faith and trust in me. We married last year and have a happy, healthy relationship. And my son finally has the dad he always wanted.
Although there are always those that try to poke their heads in and create drama from time to time, we choose to live in contentment. We don't even take the time to acknowledge someone that is trying to stir up trouble. Although, we are kind, if someone is behaving badly please don't take it personally if you don't get a response. Life is too short and precious and I refuse to waste another minute on the nonsense. I will continue to do what is right whether it offends you or not. I will love you no matter what you say or do, but don't expect me to get wrapped up in a dramatic scene with you. That's just not my thing. And if it becomes a pattern, I will regretfully let you know that there is no place in my life for someone who wants to cause grief and heartache.
I don't know when it actually happened, but I reached a point where my life was so low I had only two options. (no, suicide wasn't one of them...thankfully I have never been tempted to take my own life as others have.) But I knew I could either stay in my condition and live in misery while watching my little boy suffer with me, or I could pull myself up and start fresh. I would have to weed out those that were unhealthy in my life. Those that wanted to see me fail time and time again. Or took pleasure in spreading a nasty rumor, just to make their own lives look better. I suddenly stopped caring about what others thought or said. I could spend the rest of my life trying unsuccessfully to convince them I wasn't the person they made me out to be. Or try to make them feel bad for how they had treated me. I had to come to the conclusion that they would never change. The only person I can control is myself, and if anyone wants to spread a lie or criticize me for something I may have done wrong, they can knock themselves out. When all was said and done, I found that I had very few people left in my life. But the ones that were left were my true family and friends. Those that loved me for who I was. Those that hurt when I hurt and rejoiced when I was happy. I consider my life so much more full now then it was when I had more people in it. I still pray for those I left behind, that they can overcome their own pain and insecurities and stop hurting others to help their own image of self worth. Because at the end of the day, they must be pretty miserable.
Somewhere, in the process of weeding out all the unhealthy people in my life, I met my husband. I was finally at the point where I knew what I wanted, or rather, didn't want. He was someone I could talk to for hours and still want to talk some more. He treated me with respect and valued what I had to say. I found myself missing him when he wasn't around. And when the time came, and someone that I had cut from my life decided to try and push back in and destroy our relationship with lies, he stood by my side because he knew me better. Without at word, he showed his faith and trust in me. We married last year and have a happy, healthy relationship. And my son finally has the dad he always wanted.
Although there are always those that try to poke their heads in and create drama from time to time, we choose to live in contentment. We don't even take the time to acknowledge someone that is trying to stir up trouble. Although, we are kind, if someone is behaving badly please don't take it personally if you don't get a response. Life is too short and precious and I refuse to waste another minute on the nonsense. I will continue to do what is right whether it offends you or not. I will love you no matter what you say or do, but don't expect me to get wrapped up in a dramatic scene with you. That's just not my thing. And if it becomes a pattern, I will regretfully let you know that there is no place in my life for someone who wants to cause grief and heartache.
Many people that have experienced abuse in their childhood continue a pattern through their adulthood. I know you have all heard this before. Whether it be through unhealthy relationships, drugs, prostitution, attempted suicide, or eating disorders. The question is, what can you do to break this pattern? You have to find a way to build your feeling of self worth. To put the hurt, anger, and whatever else you are feeling behind you. I was fortunate enough to confront my abuser, to let him know how angry I was and how much I hated him for what he did. And through that I was eventually able to forgive and move on. But so many others don't have a way of doing that. My sister never admitted to what happened to her until years after my dad died. So now she has so much hurt and anger that she is just now dealing with but nowhere to direct it. So she directs it at herself. I watch her on her path to self-destruction and there is nothing I can do to help her. She has to help herself. We've talked about her seeking professional help. Or maybe writing a letter and then tearing it up. I even suggested that she visit our dad's grave and yell and scream and tell him how much he hurt her. And then try to let it go. But she still is not ready to take the steps, I guess. Everyone's timing is different.
So, to those of you that find yourselves in this kind of situation, remember: Every time you do something that is self-destructive your abuser is getting one more blow in. The more you hurt yourself, the more you are letting him hurt you. And the only one that can end it is you. So why not stop it now? Do you want to live the rest of your life beating the crap out of yourself? Or do you want to pull yourself up, dust yourself off, and move on to a better and promising life? Stop feeling worthless. The only one worthless is the creep who did this to you. You are a beautiful and valuable soul. You deserve better, you know you deserve better. And there are people out there that are willing and ready to help you rise up and take control of your life. It's about time you took the first step. And once you do that just keep going. One step in front of the other. You have the strength. It's there, somewhere, ready to rise up out of all your fear and doubts. Fear is a tool used to control. It was instilled in you by your abuser to control you and tear you down. Stop letting him control you. He's not worth it.
So, to those of you that find yourselves in this kind of situation, remember: Every time you do something that is self-destructive your abuser is getting one more blow in. The more you hurt yourself, the more you are letting him hurt you. And the only one that can end it is you. So why not stop it now? Do you want to live the rest of your life beating the crap out of yourself? Or do you want to pull yourself up, dust yourself off, and move on to a better and promising life? Stop feeling worthless. The only one worthless is the creep who did this to you. You are a beautiful and valuable soul. You deserve better, you know you deserve better. And there are people out there that are willing and ready to help you rise up and take control of your life. It's about time you took the first step. And once you do that just keep going. One step in front of the other. You have the strength. It's there, somewhere, ready to rise up out of all your fear and doubts. Fear is a tool used to control. It was instilled in you by your abuser to control you and tear you down. Stop letting him control you. He's not worth it.
My heart raced as I rushed down the stairs to my room in the basement of my family's home. I could hear him following me. But I knew somehow that this was the day I would somehow end it all. No matter what I had to do. I couldn't live like this anymore. I had to free myself. But how? I didn't want to hurt my mom. He always told me if I said anything to anyone it would destroy my mother. It would destroy my whole family.
I reached my room and slammed the door, locking myself in. But I knew that all anyone had to do was insert something flat between the door and the frame and it would pop open. I heard him approach...then the doorknob rattled as he tried to open it.
"Hope, let me in. I just want to talk to you." But I knew he was lying. I couldn't let him come in. The sound of keys rattling in his pocket sent a bolt of fear through me. He was going to get out his pocket knife and open the door. And there was nothing I could do. I was trapped. The tiny window just above my bed was way to small for me to fit through.
"Leave me alone or I'm going to call the police!" I tried to sound strong and determined but the shakiness in my voice gave away my fear. I eyed the phone I was allowed to keep in my room. But I knew I didn't have the courage to make the call. I squeezed myself into the corner of my room and pressed my face against the wall as hot tears streamed down my face.
"Please God, help me! I can't do this by myself!" My desperate prayer had barely left my lips when a strange feeling came over me. It was if I was floating away in a dream as something else took over. Before I knew it my hand was grasping the phone's receiver and dialing 911. I don't remember the operator answering the phone. Just a timid voice saying "Please help me. My dad's trying to molest me." And that was all it took. In the next instant I was back to my senses and answering the operator's questions. I heard my dad leave and go back up the stairs. And then there was a click from him picking up the other phone and then hanging it up. He left as soon as he realized I wasn't bluffing. His years of sick abuse and control were finally over.
Thus ended a long and horrible chapter of my life. But then began the biggest struggle of my life. One that would test my spirit and strength more than the abuse I had endured. I had it easier than most kids that come forward with their testimonies of abuse. My dad eventually turned himself in and confessed to everything. And after a year of counseling and another year of a very strong spiritual and emotional battle I was able to forgive him. Just months later he passed away from esophageal cancer. He never made it out of prison. But in the years to come I faced slander and lies from members of my dad's side of the family. Eventually, I had to leave family members in my past. Although I love them, I had to realize that they would never come to accept me. Sometimes you have to make the heartbreaking decision to walk away from those that are not healthy for you. It doesn't mean you have to hate them. It just means that you cannot have someone in your life whose ultimate goal is to tear you down. I just pray that one day they can accept the ugly truth and make peace with it so that their lives can be healed.
One thing I have learned through all of this is to find the positive in every situation. Through God's help, I was able to find courage and strength that I never knew I had. Through every difficult situation I face, I remind myself that years ago, a broken and terrified 16 year old girl had the strength to overcome her doubts and insecurities in order bring a sick predator to his knees. So, holding tight to God's hand, I can face the challenges that life throws at me. And maybe my story can help someone find the courage to face the monsters hiding in their closet. Whatever those monsters may be. And maybe those that think their situation is hopeless can see that ray of hope just within their reach. May God bless all those who read this.
I reached my room and slammed the door, locking myself in. But I knew that all anyone had to do was insert something flat between the door and the frame and it would pop open. I heard him approach...then the doorknob rattled as he tried to open it.
"Hope, let me in. I just want to talk to you." But I knew he was lying. I couldn't let him come in. The sound of keys rattling in his pocket sent a bolt of fear through me. He was going to get out his pocket knife and open the door. And there was nothing I could do. I was trapped. The tiny window just above my bed was way to small for me to fit through.
"Leave me alone or I'm going to call the police!" I tried to sound strong and determined but the shakiness in my voice gave away my fear. I eyed the phone I was allowed to keep in my room. But I knew I didn't have the courage to make the call. I squeezed myself into the corner of my room and pressed my face against the wall as hot tears streamed down my face.
"Please God, help me! I can't do this by myself!" My desperate prayer had barely left my lips when a strange feeling came over me. It was if I was floating away in a dream as something else took over. Before I knew it my hand was grasping the phone's receiver and dialing 911. I don't remember the operator answering the phone. Just a timid voice saying "Please help me. My dad's trying to molest me." And that was all it took. In the next instant I was back to my senses and answering the operator's questions. I heard my dad leave and go back up the stairs. And then there was a click from him picking up the other phone and then hanging it up. He left as soon as he realized I wasn't bluffing. His years of sick abuse and control were finally over.
Thus ended a long and horrible chapter of my life. But then began the biggest struggle of my life. One that would test my spirit and strength more than the abuse I had endured. I had it easier than most kids that come forward with their testimonies of abuse. My dad eventually turned himself in and confessed to everything. And after a year of counseling and another year of a very strong spiritual and emotional battle I was able to forgive him. Just months later he passed away from esophageal cancer. He never made it out of prison. But in the years to come I faced slander and lies from members of my dad's side of the family. Eventually, I had to leave family members in my past. Although I love them, I had to realize that they would never come to accept me. Sometimes you have to make the heartbreaking decision to walk away from those that are not healthy for you. It doesn't mean you have to hate them. It just means that you cannot have someone in your life whose ultimate goal is to tear you down. I just pray that one day they can accept the ugly truth and make peace with it so that their lives can be healed.
One thing I have learned through all of this is to find the positive in every situation. Through God's help, I was able to find courage and strength that I never knew I had. Through every difficult situation I face, I remind myself that years ago, a broken and terrified 16 year old girl had the strength to overcome her doubts and insecurities in order bring a sick predator to his knees. So, holding tight to God's hand, I can face the challenges that life throws at me. And maybe my story can help someone find the courage to face the monsters hiding in their closet. Whatever those monsters may be. And maybe those that think their situation is hopeless can see that ray of hope just within their reach. May God bless all those who read this.
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