This is also the prologue to my book (or a rough version of it). I hope my words touch, move, and ignite you in ways that even I was unprepared for.
Read.
Enjoy.
Comment.
Share.
Repeat.
I’m
30 years old. I have two beautifully weird and unique children. My husband
cheated on me multiple times, emotionally abused me (whether he knew it or not)
and continues to verbally bash me. We are now divorced. My father is in prison
for molesting a little girl and I mistakenly feel as though I could have
stopped him, because when I was a little girl, he sexually molested me. I lied
when I was twelve and said I had forgiven him, but in reality, I didn’t know
what forgiveness was. I was beat, abused, belittled and abandoned over 90% of
my life. Now, at 30 years old, I am the best ME I have ever been and I would be
incapable of becoming this woman if my husband hadn’t repeatedly cheated and my
father hadn’t molested me. God has given me this grand purpose to help heal the
damaged young girls around me, to uplift through the use of words and
inspiration and He knew that in order for me to be as open as He needed me to
be, He would have to open me up. Yes, it hurts to be open and exposed. Because
like a wound, I was open and exposed to the elements, but now… I have been
healed and the scars left over from those open burdens are reminders that God
chose me. Out of all His children, He chose to use me. At the time, I didn’t
understand. How could He allow my father to visit my room nightly and tarnish
my perception of love to the point that I was incapable of loving anyone
without hurting myself? How could He allow my husband to bring another woman
into our bed repeatedly and lie to my face? How through all of this, could He
still put me a position where I wouldn’t leave my abusers? How could He allow
His daughter to cry out to Him night after night and seem to ignore her cries?
I was confused most of my life. Burdened with the idea that men only loved a
woman if she did what he said. That our jobs as women are to give sexual
pleasure and omit any personal hope of happiness. I lost myself in the men
around me and the men around me were lost in the world. I was in a dark place
and I was helpless, faithless, numb and unaware that any of this was happening.
I
got pregnant at 21 (after a miscarriage at 17 and an abortion at 19). Did I
mention I was lost? I was deeply in lust with my boyfriend and the idea that I
would finally have a family. I agreed to marry before my son was born so we
would have at least “done one thing right.” I had no idea how serious marriage
was or how to make a marriage work. I had never recovered or dealt with the
molestation from my father and at the time he was still present in my life. My
husband knew of my past sexual and physical abuse and needless to say, had a
deep dislike/hatred for my father. Meanwhile, my husband’s constant need to
entertain other women had already begun. As a young, insecure woman, I ignored
the signs began a cycle of forgiveness and excuses for my husband’s miniscule
and growing exploits. After all, the way to keep a husband and his love was to
forgive. Wasn’t that what I was told to do when I was 12? The two “most
important” men in my life, the two men that were supposed to be constantly
loving me had both began and continued to mentally kill me, and I didn’t even
know it. It wasn’t until five years into our marriage that my husband slept
with another woman. Just some random woman he met at a club while the kids and
I were away at my little sister’s graduation. I didn’t find out until a month
or so later, when the woman tried to contact him again. I broke. My insides, my
chest, my heart, my soul, my self-worth, my mind, my hands, my entire being
broke. The only thing I knew to do was “forgive” and move on “for the kids.” So
that’s what I did. I had no idea that I
was now broken and functioning as less than half a person. I faked happiness. I
posted pictures to social media of our perfect family; husband and wife, with
two children (a boy and a girl), going to church, serving in the church, and
living the best life. Behind closed doors I became mean, bitter and gradually
detached myself from the people who were closest to me. I couldn’t let anyone
know what I was slowly realizing; I was dead inside. The wounds of my past were
no longer small stabs to my chest; my husband’s infidelities and lies had been
the last fatal shot and I was dead. Over those first five years of marriage my
severe Stockholm’s syndrome (an unhealthy bond with an abuser) to my father
began to overflow into my relationship with my husband and I began to identify
him in the same way. The more my husband misused our marriage, the more I felt
he loved me. He would lie, watch porn, flirt with women, exchange phone numbers
with them, create dating profiles, go to clubs when he was supposed to be out
of town and I would get angry…and “forgive.” I didn’t know it then, but the
more I was being hurt, the more God was exposing me. All this time I was
forcing myself to have a relationship with a man who never knew how to love me
while God was steadily waiting on me to allow Him to take over my life and love
me more than any man ever could.
So
here I am a grown woman, but a baby in my relationship with God. Even though I
have been saved for years, it wasn’t revealed to me until recently the purpose
for my pain and the magnitude of why I’ve been exposed in the way that I have.
The unhealthy and tumultuous relationships with the men in my life have been
the dirt of where my foundation was built. When a house is built the first
thing the construction workers do is tear up the ground. They bull doze
whatever building was already there, because it’s weak and needs to be taken
down. Then they tear apart the ground, shovel and plow into the dirt and remove
all the unwanted rubble. After all this is done, they grate and level the dirt
before applying the stronger foundation. This is what God has done in my life,
in any life of a young woman who has had to endure pain at the hands of an
abuser, molester, cheater, liar, and/or fornicator. I was torn down because I
was weak. I wasn’t going to be able to withstand or hold in the new spirit that
God was going to house inside me. My shell, my THEN spirit was too fragile and
ignorant to understand and maintain the strength of the spirit that He has
placed in me now. During the tear down I was confused and angry with God for
allowing me to be victim so many time, for demolishing my childhood. I blamed
Him for so many things without understanding that He wasn’t at fault. But I’m human;
it was the only emotion I knew. Looking back I realize that he CHOSE me. Out of
all of His children, He chose me and set me aside to do powerful things and
make monumental movements that others are not able to even fathom. He knew that
none of that would have been possible if I was still the same fragile house I
had become. From all of this, all this rubble and destruction, God was able to
rebuild me more beautiful, spirited, and indestructible than I could have ever
imagined. If I had a choice of going through it all again and becoming who I am
now with the inspiration that has been rooted in me currently, I wouldn’t
hesitate to welcome it all again.
I do think it is important to recognize that God asks all of us to use our pain in some way, in very different ways, for the purpose or revealing his mercy, grace, and unfailing love. Forgiveness has been His story in my life, and I am grateful for the journey, the unending opportunities for growth, the story I have to share. Although He seems to be writing one of His more painful chapters in my life right now, I will not despair, because I KNOW he is doing something with the theme of my life that I can't anticipate right now. I look forward to what you begin to see as the recurring theme that God is creating for your life for the sole purpose of showing HIS wonder. Love and prayers.
ReplyDeleteI love it, and I hate it because I know that it is all true. God is doing great stuff in you, changing the lives in futures of other young ladies.
ReplyDeleteWow! I'm speechless!
ReplyDeleteDianna, your story is beautifully tragic, but oh so powerful! It needs to be heard.
Keep writing beautiful! <3