My story of childhood sexual abuse began at the age of nine and ended over three years later when I was twelve. The perpetrator, my father, abused his role of protector and taught me, without having to say a word, to fear and stay silent about anything I didn’t understand. As a result, until recently, anxiety has been a constant factor in my life.
I also learned that my feelings, desires, and instincts didn’t matter; after all, bad things happened to me regardless of what I wanted or did to avoid them. The disconnect between reality and my conscious thoughts about the abuse became somewhat skewed.
Defense mechanisms are a God-given way for us to protect ourselves from the consequences of trauma in a sin-shattered world. However, if relied on for too long, at a young age, those techniques can become a problem in and of themselves. In my case, I became confused about the original purpose of my preferred method of protection – hiding, until I lost myself.
On one hand, I dealt with the situation by not thinking about it as much as possible. When that wasn’t possible, I tried, with varying degrees of success, to pretend that I wasn’t there. Kind of like the ostrich with her head in the sand, I tried to disappear, even if only mentally.
As a naturally compliant child and people-pleaser, I couldn’t admit to anyone, myself included, that anything was wrong because that was… unthinkable. How could I possibly begin to admit that this situation I couldn’t control existed, to myself, let alone anyone else? That included God; I never even asked Jesus to make what I couldn’t think about… go away.
But go away it did.
“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.” (Isaiah 61: 1-3)
One day I finally spoke up. I distinctly remember the moment I found the courage to come out of hiding. God used an image on a television program about incest to unlock the part of my heart and mind that had been keeping me voiceless.
The ongoing reoccurrence of the actual events ended, and while that was certainly a relief, the mental and emotional effects lingered and deepened. I now know that deep-seated feelings of not being “worth it” or “enough” were most likely the reason I hadn’t, or couldn’t, reach out for help.
So when the abuse I had spent over three years pretending wasn’t happening suddenly and silently ended, life seemed to go on as though nothing had occurred. But it had… and deep inside me the person who had been sleeping began to wake up to the fact that she had been wronged.
It was a painful but essential process. I needed to acknowledge that I had been sinned against so I could go to my Heavenly Father to receive the wonderful gifts that He had waiting for me – gifts of healing that led to wholeness and learning to trust again.
It is only recently that I have begun to write about my story of being abused. But because I have first-hand knowledge of the love of Jesus Christ to heal a broken heart, I feel compelled to reach out to others who may feel lost and hopeless in their own pain. It is my hope and prayer that the recounting of my story will help point other hurting hearts to the only real source of healing… Jesus Christ.
My husband and I have raised seven children and have 17 grandchildren. I write stories of the transformative work of redemption and healing that Jesus has done in my life, in the hope that others will be blessed and encouraged in their faith. Visit my blog or follow my social media!
Oh Wendy, what horror you have lived through, but you are so right, our God heals. What a story. Thank you for sharing — it will help heal others whom have suffered so.
Brianna, the grace and mercy of God in my life are what have made all the difference. He has been so good to me!
I appreciate your courage and willingness to dredge up painful memories in order to help others. May the Lord richly bless your efforts and give you the grace to walk back through it all.
Thank-you, Cheryl, for your kind words. Jesus has given me the grace I’ve needed for sharing my testimony of healing. He deserves all the credit!
I prayed as I read this. Sharing your story isn’t easy but it could be the perfect “me too” a hurting person is looking for among the Internet noise. Praise God for your healing!
Traci, your prayers for those who have been wounded are so appreciated. Bless you!
Wow, thank you for being so courageous and vulnerable in sharing your story! I hope that others who have been in your situation have a chance to read it and start their journey towards healing.
Kathleen, it has taken me a long time to “come out” about my experience in such a public way. Fear and shame kept me silent and broken. It is my hope that others will realize that Jesus longs to heal them and set them free. Thank-you for your encouragement!
I am so sorry about what you endured in your early life. Praise God for His healing and love. I admire how you are bravely stepping out to help others with your story.
Bless you,
Lynn
Lynn, I am grateful that Jesus can redeem all of the heartache that this sin-soaked world throws at us. It blesses me to see how He is able to use what the enemy intended for my personal destruction to set others free too. What an amazing Savior we have!
What a story! Its amazing how God heals us!
Valerie, thanks for rejoicing with me!
Thank you so much for your courage to share your story! When we share our stories we provide space for others to do the same. “Gifts of healing that led to wholeness…” beautiful!!!
You’re right about the importance of sharing our stories, Heather. I am glad that Jesus enabled me to trust Him so that I can share mine. Thanks for the encouragement!
Wendy, your heartbreaking story wrapped in beautiful prose has pierced me this morning. You describe so clearly the emotional rippling effect of sexual abuse in ways I never of thought of before. What a powerful message you have to share! So many will benefit from you doing so. How wonderful that you have found the love of God through it all and the fact that you went on, married, had seven children, and are pouring your past struggles into hope for others makes my heart sing.
As someone who was molested, not by a family member, but my dad’s trusted friends son, I can relate to your story. I hid mine as well for years, and while that was years ago and I have come to grips with it, I still have a lot of struggles today. If not for God who knows where I would be? God bless you.
Such a powerful testimony. Thank you for the bravery and courage it takes to write about such a difficult experience.
Such a horrible thing to endure, Wendy. Thank the Lord He preserved you through it and has worked the precious healing only He can in you. Thanks for sharing your story so that others may be pointed to the Lord!
Wendy, I admire your courage in sharing your story. While I can’t relate, I know many other women can, and I pray they will be encouraged by your testimony.
Wendy, I’m so grateful for your courage to bring what was dark into the light for healing and peace. Abuse is also part of my story, and through the healing, God uses our story to shine a light for someone else. Praying continued healing and joy as you experience the beauty of God’s restoration.