Once upon a time…
TW: SA, Abuse
The topic of abuse is always a tough one to digest. The trauma can sometimes feel like a chokehold. It’s crazy how after so many years things just resurface. Guess that’s the result of suppressing things: triggers that catch you off guard and memories you worked so hard to rid yourself from. It only took me 10 years to finally stop the suppression of what was plaguing me and face it head-on so that I would be free from it. For the sake of my 13-year-old self, my husband, and my future children. Once upon a time, she was silenced but the time came for her to find her voice and strength.
Every year since 2012, this occurrence has crept up here and there along with other experiences. For a long time, I would tell myself I had nothing to heal from because the rape never occurred. Yeah, that may be true but the abuse and close-cutting seconds to being violated still happened. In any room where the subject of abuse came up, I’d tense up and ask to tell myself the same lie and move on as if nothing happened.
After the back and forth of evading my emotions for a decade, I realized I couldn’t go into my marriage with this unresolved - I knew that my unresolved trauma could end up being poured out on someone who didn’t deserve it. I realized if I kept evading I wouldn’t be the mother I know I could be. I had to face the past.
At the age of 13, I found myself naive and “in love” with the first guy that intentionally sought me out. From the day I started school in America, there was nothing under the sun that wasn’t said to me to tarnish any ounce of self-esteem I had. So, by the time I got to high school and this guy called me beautiful and pretty, I was desperate to be wanted because everyone else was and I was always being referred to as who they’d never want to be with. We started texting and it was all roses and flowers. I was finally hearing things like, “ I want to come to meet your family” “ I want to know more about you” etc. Not much time passed before he started asking for sex. I would make up excuses but I was afraid of saying a plain no because “what if he wouldn’t like me anymore?”
Then we started hanging out in person and the asks became a bit more forward. I was opened up to things I had never experienced before but I knew there was a line I didn’t want to cross. Since my no’s became more clear, the asks for oral sex started and my answer remained the same… “That’s not something I want to do.” Well, eventually, he got tired of my boundaries.
It all soon came to a head when I missed one of his football games. Afterward, he talked me into sending him pictures of myself to “make him feel better.” for missing the game. To my surprise, the next time I saw him in person the tone was very different. He made an ask for sexual things and I declined per usual but then he said, word for word, “If you don’t do give me head I’m going to send out your pictures. I’m popular and can get this to a lot of people and no one will care what you have to say.” I was in absolute shock, this man was blackmailing me. I was lost for words. This was the beginning of a cycle that would mess me up more than I ever knew was possible. I was now at his beck and call. He would text me “Be outside in 5 mins” and you bet I was outside when he asked. I was afraid to tell anyone because I already had issues opening up but moreover I felt like he was just so powerful in my eyes. Looking back, I realized that I was so wrong. He was a coward.
Regrettably, in some sick twisted way, I still “loved” this person. I had held on to the rosy picture of how this all started, chose the narrative I wanted to believe about what was happening, and tried to cope. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. This person would shove me in corners at school and grope me — and others as well. In the environment, it was normalized and honestly, I think we were all just coping the best we knew how. Speaking for myself, I figured that since everyone else was dealing with the same thing, it was fine. This went on pretty much almost my entire freshman year. I would journal about being in love with this person but really I was in love with the lies they sold me and couldn’t see things for what they really were. Among other things, the scariest experience was feeling the weight of this football player on my 120 lb body say the words “If you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to take it.” Watching my life almost take an unexpected turn, I was saved by a lie I came up with of a cop being across the street and that they’d hear me scream. I was pushed out of the truck and he drove off. Even after this, I didn’t have the courage to tell anyone and the cycle continued.
I had one friend I told about what was going on and God bless her for seeing the red flags. She witnessed one of the most degrading instances I dealt with and all I could say to her was “It’s fine. Don’t tell anyone, I’m scared.” I’m thankful that she didn’t listen to me. Long story short, she did what any good friend should and went to an adult, in this case, my older brother, and asked for help. I remember being angry at the moment because I knew my abuser would be upset and, like anyone that’s been in an abusive cycle, I wanted to protect my abuser.
Somehow, when you’re a victim, you feel responsible for making sure you don’t ruin your abuser’s life even though they’ve intentionally scarred you for life.
A police report was filed and throughout this process, no one really understood me beside the police but that’s a story for another day. I ended up withdrawing the charges. I told myself it was because “I don’t want to ruin his brother’s image of him and he looks up to him a lot,” and “I don’t want to ruin his senior year and his prom experience.” However, a few weeks later I had a run-in with him where he looked me dead in the eyes and said “I hope you know I still own you right”. Pathetic.
Years later, this person came back to work for our high school and I was disgusted. I’d do my best to avoid him at all costs. Until one day, he grabbed me and said “You better respect me and respond when I speak to you.” Thankfully I wasn’t that little girl anymore and stood my ground. A little over a year after, I ran into his brother, who was a very good friend, and his mum at a New Year’s service. I was so happy to see him as he was one of my first friends when we started high school. His mum looked at me and complimented me, calling me beautiful. She went on to say “I have a son that would be perfect for you” and my heart sank to my stomach. I did my best not to have a physical reaction and just smiled, thinking, “If only she knew.”
10 years later I finally found the strength that my 13-year-old self didn’t ever think she would have. I faced the fear that I still had of this person and went head to head with the lies I believed, the shame I felt for not being smarter, and the guilt of not being strong enough to not let him walk over me. I knew now that I responded like anyone in this type of situation would and I needed to stop blaming myself for not being wiser then. I was only 13 years old. I did the work in counseling and in my relationship because no way was the enemy going to use this past bondage as a foothold in my life. He tried his best to keep my mind in bondage but God’s grace and strength were sufficient enough and sustained me through the pain of processing all that came with this experience. I took a big step and I know that I am proud of myself because I couldn’t complete it then but I found the strength to do so now.
To anyone with a broken heart from similar experiences, please know that there is light on the other end of your healing. The step of reopening things that left deep scars is hard but I promise the journey of healing is worth it. You can overcome and be freed from the emotional damage and shame by the power of Jesus Christ. You are not what happened to you. God’s arms are wide open to restore you fully in His glory. As hard as life’s experiences are, I count it all joy because walking through the valley makes my life a picture of the true love of God. The sustenance of His grace, mercy, and love. I get to walk boldly and testify that this is what the enemy intended to ruin my identity and self-image but God stepped in. The biggest aftermath effect that I still work through as a result of this experience is the belief that my voice did not matter. That I do not have a say and I cannot oppose what I don’t want or really express how I feel. But God has freed me to know that my voice matters and I will not be silenced in any way shape or form. Once upon a time, she was silenced but by the power of God, she was lifted up, given a new name, and a bold voice that speaks with authority. What once had power no longer has a hold on me.
With love,
Belema-Ruth
