She Shares - Selah

I grew up in a Christian home where we were doggedly instructed not to “air our dirty laundry” as my mother liked to say. It was a strict code we were instructed to follow. It seemed like a legitimate way to live, because, even as a child, I witnessed someone twists facts and ruin someone’s reputation. In the small community where I lived during my formative years, everyone knew everybody so it was easy for your private affairs to become public. Therefore, I adhered to my mother’s teaching. The unfortunate aspect of this mindset was the secrecy and refusal to deal with issues within the family. Everything was sort of swept under the rug like dust balls to be trapped for years.

For me, the secret was the relationship between me and my stepfather. It started out as if he just wanted to make me laugh by tickling me. I didn’t like to be tickled, so he did it gently and not in an offensive manner at first. Then, these episodes lead to him “tickling” my private area. I was a child, so of course, I was stunned speechless. The fear was overwhelming. I don’t recall him ever saying, “Do not tell anyone” or threatening me. Rather, I lived with the fear that if I told even one person, our family secret would be exposed and I would be to blame. So, I keep quiet. As a result, he continued to “play” with my body every opportunity he could. I grew to hate him and everyone around me.

This continued for a few years while I was in elementary school. Once I went to middle school, the abuse stopped. I don’t know why and at the time, I didn’t care. I was just grateful he was no longer interested in me. Once it stopped, he became verbally abusive. In hind sight I realized he began to spend more time with my little sister who was three years younger than me.  So, this was our family secret. I did not have a voice or control over my body. I became very bitter and promised myself I would never marry. I hated men and I hated my mother, because she allowed herself and me to be abused by this brute. See, he was abusive to her in every way imaginable. As children, we watched him physically beat our mother bloody. Years later, after I got up the nerve to discuss what happened to me with my mother, she shared that he raped her regularly. Because of a strong Christian upbringing and the church, she felt it was her duty to keep the family together. Sadly, the discussion quickly shifted from me to her. She never said, “Sorry that happened to you.” She said nothing. Our relationship remained exactly as it always was, distant. I love and respect her as my mother, but we can never be friends.

As a result, I wasted many years doing whatever I wanted and with whomever to meet my needs on my terms. My hurt, anger, and bitterness lead me to expose myself to diseases and one-night encounters with complete strangers. I truly believed I had control over my life and my choices. Truthfully, I didn’t value who I really am and wasted time that I could have spent yielding and living for Jesus as Lord and Savior. The difficulty was in trying to understand how such a good God could allow abuse to happen to me. My journey changed when I started therapy. After a year in therapy, the wounds healed. Then, I found a Christ centered church and bonded with a wise older woman. I learned about God’s character and forgiveness. Most importantly, I learned that my self-destructive relationships with men was hurting me and drawing me away from the one who truly loves me. Now, after countless meaningless relationships, I am celibate. I never married nor had children. My heart has healed and the bitterness is gone, so I am finally ready to meet and marry the man God has for me.

My life is full and my ministry is fruitful. I took my pain and channeled it into mentoring young ladies through an organization. Most importantly, I encourage them to learn to trust and depend on God. As well, I encourage young mothers to teach their children, especially girls, to define safe boundaries and to have the courage to speak up when others even attempt to violate their personal space.

Our family secret is no longer a secret. Privately in one-on-one conversations, I share my story hoping to encourage others to heal the brokenness, the shame, and self-hate that stems from abuse. Now, I am whole. I am complete in Christ Jesus. I chose the pseudonym “Selah” because of one of its meanings - pause. At the beginning and end of every day, I pause. I enter into the presence of the Lord through scripture, prayer, and meditation. He reminds me that regardless of how my story began, He created me as a masterpiece out of His love and ultimately His plan for me. My circumstances, my scars, nor even my successes, define who I am. Only God does!

I hope by sharing my story, you will have the courage to face your past, your heartache, and maybe even self-destructive behaviors you’re using to soothe the hurt and longing for the love and acceptance you desire and deserve. As someone who has experienced destructive dysfunctional family dynamics, I know what it feels like not to be loved and protected by the people you expect and need it from the most. You believe the lie that you are damaged goods that can be continuously abused and thrown away. Sex will not fix it. Drugs and alcohol only temporally soothe it. Only God can heal and restore and replace the love and hope and plan He has for you!

But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.

I cried aloud to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy hill. Selah

Psalm 3:3-4