Sometimes in life, we endure unimaginable pain that leaves us with questions, blame, and doubt. When I was 17, I became a victim of rape. The abuse occurred almost daily and lasted for many months.
For so long, I felt angry at the world and God, my faith wavering in Him. And I questioned everything. It wasn’t until after the fact that I learned of God’s purpose in my life and all He’s capable of.
I will never forget the first time I was sexually assaulted.
The fear overwhelmed me. I froze, feeling paralyzed, before begging and crying for it to stop. I tried hard to fight him, but that just made him angrier, causing me more pain. The words of my perpetrator and the fear he instilled in me still haunt me today. He broke me down, and I felt worthless, as if my life didn’t matter. I feared for my life, knowing his capabilities.
For a long time, I hid the abuse, protected him, and stayed silent. As the abuse continued, I just lay there, frozen with tears rolling down my face. Sometimes, I closed my eyes and imagined the beach, something so beautiful that it brought me peace during such a horrific moment.
Carrying all this pain made me feel so alone and scared. I felt like I had no one to turn to. And I just wanted it to all end. I didn’t know what else to do.
One day, while my abuser assaulted me, I closed my eyes and felt called to pray. I cried out to God, unaware if he would spare me this pain. I said, “Please, just end this, make him stop.”
I promised God that, if I survived, I would do something to help those who suffered the same way I had for so long.
A few days later, everything came crumbling down. He answered my prayer, but a new hell took over my life. While the abuse stopped, I now had to navigate a broken legal system, flawed school system, and relive my worst days over. I will never forget how the people who should have protected me failed me. I grew angrier and lonelier, but as I battled all this, I turned to God again. I pleaded with Him to promise me that He would make all the pain worth it, give me answers to all the questions I had, and give me the strength to survive. I no longer have the will to live.
A couple of years later, my abuser faced some sort of justice. It wasn’t nearly enough for the pain he caused me, but I was thankful I could now close that chapter of my life.
During that time, I wrote in my journal almost daily. I have always enjoyed writing and journaling, and it has become an outlet and a safe space for me. For so long, my story wasn’t mine. I was forced to sit back and listen to others speak on my behalf, as well as listen to the rumors people spread about me.
But one day, I decided to share a journal entry regarding the details of some of the abuse I endured. I never imagined what would come from one journal entry, but it changed my entire life. God finally showed me my purpose and why I survived all this.
I’m grateful that faith and strength pulled me through.
While I couldn’t understand the why for so long, now I have fewer questions than I did back then. My faith allows me to be here to share my story, voice, and to fight for survivors of sexual assault all over. Sadly, the trauma is something I will live with forever, but I survived. I know my purpose in life, and I thank God for guiding me through those horrific days. He reminds me daily of His power and love.
This world can be a scary place, but having faith and strength can make it all better.
Photo by Olivia Snow on Unsplash
