Disclaimer: Topics of a sensitive nature relating to physical, sexual, and/or emotional abuse and trauma will be discussed in this series. Discretion is advised before proceeding.
For a long time, I thought about how to start drafting my story. I even thought about writing a book. I guess it’s best to start at the beginning, where I think things went wrong.
When I was about one year old, my mother left my dad in the middle of the night. I don’t remember much because I was so young, but I have a memory of asking my mom if I could bring my big stuffed bear. She replied no because it had a hole in it. Now this could be a memory of that day or some other day, but in my head, I associate them together.
She left with my two sisters and me. Sometime later, my older sister got to live with our dad, but my younger sister and I stayed with our mom. My mom moved us to North Carolina where her sister lived, and where she met my stepfather. I’ve been told repeatedly that I jumped into his lap and said that I wanted him to be my new daddy. I don’t remember this, but it always made me feel like everything that happened to me was all my fault.
He and my mother got married and he was the only dad I knew. We were too far away to know or spend time with our real dad. Even in the time when we lived closer, we were not allowed to see him or my sister often. I do have some great memories with them but there are only a few.
We moved around a lot and lived in multiple states, including North Carolina, New Jersey, and Florida, but South Carolina was home for most of my childhood. Again, I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember bits and pieces of things that happened here and there. The verbal abuse that I can recall did not start until I was about 11 years old, in the 5th grade.
Up until that time, I had a happy childhood, but thinking back through all of this I can remember being groomed for the abuse that was to come. For example, my stepfather would allow me to watch Playboy on TV at night, or my parents would go to the Adult Drive-In movies with us in the back seat. We were covered up and told not to watch, to go to sleep. Well, we were little, curious, and saw things we should never have seen.
Living in a trailer for most of my childhood, our bedroom door was right by the living room. Many times, we would hear and sometimes see them having sex. I don’t think any of those things were an accident on his part. Maybe my mom didn’t know or realize it, but there was a lot she had to have known was wrong.
I remember him touching me for the first time when I was 11 years old. We were home alone, and he took my hand and led me into my bedroom. He put me on my bed, which was the top bunk, and did things to me with his mouth.
The only thing I remember thinking was why the window was open, and why he didn’t close it. I don’t know why, but it’s the only thought I had. Probably because I was groomed by that point after being exposed to so much – it didn’t occur to me that anything was wrong. To me, it was just a normal thing.
Things went on like that for years. He would always want me to stay with him, and my sister would go with my mom if she had to go out. By 13 years of age, he started doing more things to me. I don’t know what changed but he started having intercourse with me – always in my own bed when we were home alone.
It felt wrong, but he would make threats of harming my mom or sister if I told anyone. He was already very mean to my sister, to the point that she would have seizures if she knew he was mad and she was in trouble. He would do special little things for me and not her, but only if I complied with what he wanted to do with me.
When my sister and I were younger, we would occasionally go to church with friends my mom worked with. I remember the Sunday School teacher telling me to pray every night and ask Jesus to come into my heart. That stuck with me, and I did that every night. I would also pray for my stepfather to stop. It might be hard to understand, but I loved my stepfather, as he was the only father I really knew. They didn’t let us see our real dad, let alone get to know him, so it was very hard to break away from him.
When I was 15, I was so tired of it, and bold enough to ask him to stop. He said he would, but he didn’t. One day out of the blue, he asked me what I would do if I got pregnant. I told him I would kill it and walked away. I don’t think I would have had an abortion, but I wanted to hurt him by saying that and let him know how I felt. He never mentioned it or asked me again.
When I started dating, I had sex with my boyfriend, because I thought well, I’m having sex with my stepfather, it must be ok to have sex with my boyfriend. I was smoking because my mom said she would rather me smoke in front of her instead of behind her back. I stole beer and alcohol out of the fridge.
Thinking back now, he had to have known I was drinking his beer, but didn’t care. I think it turned him on even more. I ended up leaving for a few days and moving in with my boyfriend. My mom begged me to come home. I remembered what my stepfather said he would do to my mom and sister if I told anyone, and I could see the fear in her eyes. I especially did not want him to do anything to my sister, as she was already afraid of him. I couldn’t leave her, so I went home in hopes that he would stop, but it started all over again.
Church was my only escape, but it was not a constant in our lives. I begged them to take us to church, but they wouldn’t let me go. I remember going to a friend from school’s Confirmation. I asked questions to my Jewish friend, as I was searching to know more about God. I knew He was real, but I couldn’t feel Him.
When I turned 16, I met a new girl at the start of the school year. We would cut class sometimes and go to the bathroom to just talk about our lives. She told me all the mean things her stepmom did to her. Soon, I felt comfortable telling her everything I was going through. I’m sure I overwhelmed the poor girl because I told her everything.
The next morning at school my boyfriend did not meet me at my locker like usual. I thought he just didn’t go to school that day. After the first period, I went to my locker because I had to get something, and he came up behind me. He startled me, but when I looked at his face, I just knew he knew and started to cry. We went into the courtyard and talked, and I told him everything.
He already had suspicions of physical abuse but not sexual. He found me after second period and informed me that we were leaving school with his friend, so his mom could help us figure out what to do. I had so many emotions going through my head, especially fear of what my stepfather would do. I didn’t even tell my sister I was leaving school.
His friend’s mom was wonderful to me, and I love her to this day. We still keep in touch every now and again. She called the police to see what would happen if sexual abuse was reported. The police officer said my dad would be arrested and I needed to be taken to the hospital to be checked out. She took me to the ER, and they did an examination and then we went to the police station.
As I was meeting with a lady from the Rape Crisis Center, my mom came into the police station. She kept repeating “WHAT DID YOU DO NOW?” until the lady made her leave. I was so thankful for that. They put me in a foster home with an older couple for a few weeks until my real dad and his wife came to get me.
On the way to drop me off, my foster father made some disturbing comments. He told me I was very pretty. I held on to the truck door and said, “Thank you.” He then said, “If anything happened to my wife would you marry me?” I said, “No, you are old” and continued to grip the door.
We finally got to where my dad and stepmom were, and I was so thankful to be out of his truck and away from that crazy man. My dad and stepmom were amazing with me and so patient. They had no idea the magnitude of what I’d been through. They took me in, even though I came with a lot of baggage and could have been a total terror. I started going to a Christian school and my parents took me to church.
It’s interesting how you want something so badly at one point, then you no longer want it. But I guess that is the sinful nature inside us. We went down to South Carolina for the trial against my stepfather and it ended up being a hung jury. My stepmom asked me if I wanted to retry him. She said it was up to me – we could if I wanted to, but we didn’t have to. It was my decision.
I thought about it and decided I wanted to try him again because I did not want him to do this to anyone else. The second jury found him guilty and gave him nine years for what he did to me. He got out early on good behavior and only served three years.
I don’t have any ill wishes for him. I still pray for him because I believe God wants us all to be saved. However, I have no desire to see him ever again. I wanted to make my real dad and stepmom happy, so I got saved and baptized. At the time, I really thought I was saved. But it wasn’t until 2001, after being married for about six years, that I realized I was just going through the motions.
On a Thursday night at church, our Pastor talked about all the things a Christian should be doing in their walk, however, I was not doing most of those things. I was going to church, but I was hiding so much. I hid that I was drinking heavily. I didn’t like the taste of alcohol, and I didn’t struggle with wanting a drink, nor was I an alcoholic. I think I did it mostly because I was hanging around the wrong people.
I believe that’s why God moved us from New Jersey to Ohio when He did. He got us away from the bad influences in our life. I am still making mistakes because we are not perfect people, but we do have a perfect Savior. It was through my salvation that God showed me in spite of all that suffering I experienced here on earth, I was not alone. My Savior went through great suffering as well. I also have the Holy Spirit to let me know when I am wrong. Oh boy, does He let me know too, but in a loving way!
The biggest thing I learned from my life experiences is forgiveness is very important – not for the person you are forgiving, but for you, so you are no longer under their power or control. I did not want to be a victim of sexual abuse. That’s why I am able to tell my story. I want others to know that you can go to counseling, and it can definitely help with dealing with thoughts, emotions, and behavior from the trauma, but Jesus is the Ultimate Counselor. He is the Ultimate Healer.
I also want people to know that they can overcome this part of their life. It can be a part of your past, but it doesn’t have to be part of your future. The Bible says in Psalm 23:4, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” God is with us through the tough times and the scary times. Life is a literal roller coaster; we go up and down and up and down. There may be more downs than ups but, in those downs, God does not leave us. I finally realized all of this after I truly got saved, listened to the Holy Spirit, and trusted Jesus with my life.
Prayer for Moms:
Dear Heavenly Father, I pray for all who read my story, if they are going through or have gone through the trauma of abuse, please show them that they are not alone and that they can overcome this trial in their lives. I pray for peace that passes all understanding in their lives like you gave me. Show them you are with them and speak to their hearts through my story. Thank you for all you have done in my life, and I pray to continually be a witness for you, Lord.
In Jesus Name, Amen
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