My Story

I would like to tell you about my life and just how good God is.

The details in the following reading could cause triggers so please proceed with caution.
 
I am the baby of 4 children. I have 2 older brothers and 1 older sister. My mom and dad were both married before, but I didn’t find that out until I was way into my teen years. All along. I thought that I had real siblings. However, I found out that my oldest brother was not my mom’s son. Well, let's talk a little about who we will call "brother A."

He had a very bad temper. Short fused you could say and he hated everyone. I was a very angry person and as you can imagine, we didn’t see eye to eye at all. My parents would go out on the weekends and leave my sister and brother in his care. Now, keep in mind that we didn’t see eye to eye on anything and when he would tell me to do something that I didn’t want to do and I didn’t do it, I would find my head being bashed against the wall or picking myself up off the floor. He got joy out of beating me.

I would get up and call my parents, only to have my dad come home and do the same thing to me for not listening to my brother. So, needless to say, the phone calls stopped and "brother A" figured that he could do what ever he wanted to do with me and I would not be able to do anything about it.

My sister always stayed in her room, reading so she had no idea what was going on. She was seen as the perfect one. My brother would take me in his room and make me do things that a sister should not do to brothers. Let's just say that he learned all about how sex worked by using me as his lab rat and would say that he was teaching me what not to let others do to me. If I didn’t give in then it was head in the wall or picking myself up off the floor, so I just laid there and let him have his way and hoped that it would be over soon.

About the age of 13 that began to stop as he and my dad stopped getting along, so he moved out. Nothing was ever done about the physical or sexual abuse that he had done to me. He got off scott free and I was left holding the bag.
 
During this time, my sister and I shared a room. I would tell her about things that were happening to me and she would find something and hit me with it saying that I was lying and I was trying to break our family up. After getting beat with high heels, after a while, again you learned to zip the lips. She was the angel, the perfect child of the family so anything that she said was etched in stone. So, when she would do anything wrong and not want to get in trouble about it, guess who got the blame. You guessed it, ME. So, it would result in more beatings. This time it was with the buckle of the belt. I was whipped in places that could not be visible to the eyes and was threatened not to say anything about the “whippings” as they were called.

Next, there is my brother closet to me in age. We will call him "brother R." Well, R was and is the apple of my family's eye. The sun rises and sits around him according to my parents. He did get some of the beatings, but here again, he would blame me and of course they believed him and here came more beatings. "Brother R" began to make me come in his room and do stuff to him that I didn’t want to do and he would do things to me that are unthinkable for a brother and sister to do. He would make me have sex with him when my parents were gone. The one time that I told him that I was going to tell he wrapped a pool stick around my head and said that next time he would kill me for sure. Well, I told anyway and guess what? I got the beating for telling on him, because I was once again they said I was lying. My family had labeled me as a liar, so anytime I had fingers pointing at me and I denied it, I was the liar.
 
My dad would get the playboy magazines in the mail and my brother and his friends would sneak in and look at them and forget to put them back where they belonged. Several times, my dad would question "brother R" and he would blame me. I remember crying and telling dad that I didn’t do it, but he never believed me because I was a little liar. So, because they thought that I seemed so interested in naked women, dad would make me parade around the house without any clothes on when mom was away and then it would end with us having sex together.

This seemed to become a habit for me so it was not a big deal after all who would I tell? I could never go to anyone within my family anything so, I learned to just suck it up and forget about it, or so I thought. I had no idea that at that time that it would come back and haunt me as I got older.

I lived for my weekends. I remember from the age of 4 getting to go and spend the night with my grandmother. She was my only source of love and strength. She was my god. She always did fun stuff with me and would take me to Church with her on Sundays. My grandfather was an alcoholic and didn’t go to Church. He would come home around 2 or 3 in the mornings and sleep until we left from Church. Mamaw always seemed to be the virtuous woman that I had always wanted to be. When we would leave for Church, we had a well balanced breakfast and lunch would be almost done. Man to be able to do that today! However, as I knew very well, there was nothing enjoyable without a lot of pain.

On Friday and Saturday nights I would lay in the bed with my grandmother until we seen the lights of my grandfather coming up the driveway and then I would run to my room and act like I was asleep. Every Friday and Saturday night the same thing would happen over and over and over again. Sometimes 3 or 4 times a night. I still envision the routine. My grandfather would come in the front door and sling whatever was on the counter on the floor. (Mamaw usually left his dinner plate sitting there for him to eat dinner when he came in.) He would then walk past the kitchen and to the bathroom. The bathroom separated my room from my grandmothers room. He would turn the light on as if he went in the bathroom and come in my room and close the door. He would climb in the bed with me and begin to fondle and kiss all over me. I thought if I pretended to be asleep he would go away.

Well, he got tired of doing just that so he would take his socks off and stuff them in my mouth and tell me that if I screamed, he would kill my grandmother. So, I would just lay there with his nasty socks in my mouth, crying. He would tell me not to cry, that He was just showing me that I was his little Agnes (my grandmothers name) and he would say that it was a special bond between just us and that no one should know about it. It was our secret.

As I had told you earlier, no one ever believed me when I told them stuff like this. They would say that I had a vivid imagination and that I was lying. So, for years I just zipped it and it was our secret. At one point I tried to tell them what was happening and I got the beating of my life and never said anything else about it again.

It got so bad with my grandfather that when he asked me to go places with him and I was scared to say no. So, we began taking trips to the store to get a coke and then he would have to stop in the woods on the way back and we would have sex. I finally learned to stop fighting and let him do what he wanted to do. I didn’t want him to hurt my grandmother anymore as I had watched him beat her and break her arm for questioning him for being in my room. I would do whatever it took to protect her. Remember she was my source of life and my strength.

Anyway, papaw and I would go many different places for him to have his way with me. There was one time when we went fishing with 2 of his other friends and when they got drunk and they had a threesome with me. I just laid there and took it because after all no one believed me.

One day, I had taken enough and I went to the counselor at my school and tried to tell him what was happening, who proceeded to tell me that my dad had already spoken to him about my vivid imagination so it would do me no good talking to him and and guess what? Yes, you guessed it, one time when I went into his office for something, he locked the door behind me and raped me. Here again, I told no one zip.

This went on for 14 years until my grandmother died and then it stopped, because I stopped going to visit, being my Grandmother was gone.

I grew up being a hard, cold individual wondering how such a good God could be so mean. I still went to Church on Sundays and tried to learn to love God, the best way that I could, but the anger seemed to be to much. I went to talk to a youth pastor about it and he too was friends with my family and dad had asked him to talk to me about my imagination. He too began to believe my parents and not me. So, what else could he do but have a taste for himself. Yes he raped me too. Just another day in my life.

Where was God? This was a man I had grown to love and trust only to be betrayed. I began dating and sex was something my boyfriends knew they were not getting from me. I had taken enough to last me a lifetime for sure. For some reason, I stayed in Church and tried to learn to understand and love God.
 
This particular guy that I was dating and I had gotten really tight but still no sex. He had asked me to marry him and I said yes, I would. It looked like a way out for me. We began to make plans and dates for the wedding and things were going good. Then one night when he brought me home and no one was home, he said we were going to be married and we were going to have sex if I wanted it or not. So, yes he date raped me and I just laid there and took it like all the other times. I was still going to marry him but for some reason before ordering my dress I called it off.

That was God!

I began to date another nice man and he too proposed to me. I was deeply in love with him. We will call him "D." I was also very involved with my Church being in the choir and orchestra and still trying to figure out this God stuff. I was like a brick wall and no one was going to get through to me to hurt me again. "D" was everything to me and he would protect me, or so I thought! Well, things were going well and it was the day of the wedding rehearsal. The dresses were bought, Church was decorated, everything was ordered and we were on.

Well, it came time for rehearsal and "D" was not there. He never showed up that night at all. My brother in law and my brother went to find him and ask him what was wrong. The whole thing boiled down to the fact that he didn’t want to marry me because he didn’t believe in my Religion. I wanted a hug so bad from my mom or my dad only to get the silent treatment.

Three days later, I was asked what did I expect them to do with all the wedding stuff. How did I expect to pay all that money back because if I was not such a slut, we would have gotten married. Never once did I receive a hug or an I am sorry for your pain. It was all my fault in their eyes and that was the end of it no matter what I said. I didn’t have a hugging family so I very seldom got hugs but needed one so badly. Here again I just zipped it up and went on my way. I learned the hard way not to question anything, to just deal with the blows that life gave you and move on..

Where was God?

I stayed in Church because I promised my grandmother that I would and that is where I met my husband. Things were going good with us until my children got molested by a member of his family and things began to go down hill from there. The courts got involved and we were given an absolute 0 contact with the entire family. That has been 5 years ago and I have not seen my husband's family since then, but my husband has.

My husband began to drink and to become very hurtful and mean to me. I still stayed because my children had been through enough and they needed their dad. They never saw him hurt me, so it was all good in my eyes. One particular night he had had too much to drink. I had gone to bed way earlier just to get away from him, when he came in my bedroom and he began to have sex with me against my will.

Yes, my own husband raped me!

I still am with him today.

Where was God?

I later talked to him about what he did and he had realized that he had too much to drink and he cried like a baby when I told him what he did. He promised me never to drink again and never to hurt me again and so far he has held strong to his promise! We are working on loving each other in the way God would have us love each other and things are better between us. I wanted to leave him but have chosen to tough it out with him. I know that God put us together and who am I to break us apart?
 
About a year ago my dad came down to my home to get a copy of something that was made and molested me while he was here.

Where was God?

The pain had become too much in growing up, so I began to burn and cut myself to do away with the pain.
It didn’t help. It just left marks on me.

The only way people told me I could deal with the pain was to give it to God.
 
How could I do that? This was someone who I believed never helped me and always allowed people to hurt me, or so I thought.

Today I can tell you that is not who God is.

You ask me how I know that?

I look back on my life and I see how God did protect me from many horrible diseases that I could have contracted. I could have gone off the deep end and done away with myself, but that would solve nothing, so that was not an option. I could go to counselors and talk about it but that would not do anything but make me burn and cut more. That would solve nothing. I learned that I was not important and that I was just a toy for people to have their way with. I learned that it didn’t matter what I wanted because I was not important.
 
I found a few friends who told me who God really was and that He really does love me. I could not believe it, but I tried my best to hang on to the fact that someone loved me.

Did I love him?

NO

Did I love anyone?

 NO

 Not even my husband. He was a way out!

I have now learned that I am the apple of God’s eye and I am the most important thing to him. I have learned that He was there with me during all the abuse holding me and crying with me. You see God gave man free will and man's will was to abuse me.

God’s will was to love me.

It has not been an easy road to travel and I am not there yet. I have forgiven God, man and myself and I am learning to trust God and let him continue to heal my heart. It has not been easy letting all this come out, but in order to be healed I have to face it head on and so does anyone who is has or is enduring this type of pain and suffering.

God is right there by our side waiting for us to ask Him for help. I know that with God all things are possible and that He promises that He will never leave nor forsake me.

I have to take Him at His word.

What do I have to lose?

What do YOU have to lose?

God can do for you what He has done for me.

Will you begin to let those walls down and trust Him?

Will you give Him your heart and your hurt?

Will you allow Him to heal you?

You are worth it and you are important.

I would love to talk to you sometime and tell you just how good my God is.

Here is a path that may help you find peace, freedom and joy: