Exposing the truth...

The first step to breaking free from the bondage of sexual abuse is to tell your story.  For me, this came just weeks before I turned 26 years old.  Quite honestly, I had no intentions of sharing my secret.  I wish I could tell you that through careful prayer and consideration I felt the urging of the Lord to confront my father.  I wish I could tell you that I sought out the help of a professional counselor to guide me to the point that I was ready to bring the truth to light.  But that would be far from the truth.  It wasn't something I planned out and rehearsed in front of my mirror trying to figure out the right words to say.  It was more like a spontaneous eruption...it just happened.  Thankfully, God's grace and protection were with me all the same.

In the month prior to revealing my secret, I was forced to go back to my home with my parents as I recovered from a major shoulder surgery.  I had struggled for years with a debilitating right shoulder injury, and even though I knew my only option was to have to go home for my mom to help me as I recovered, I jumped on the chance for some physical relief from pain.  Little did I know that the focus would rapidly transform from physical pain to an even more agonizing emotional pain.

Going home for this amount of time really did a number on me.  I began thinking back to what it was like when I use to live at home growing up.  I was forced to revisit the emotions I so desperately tried to hide for so long.  I was scared, sad, lonely, confused...I was drowning emotionally, and that is putting it kindly.  One day while my mother was working and I was home alone, my father came home, walked into my room and closed the door behind him.  In that moment I became a frightened, helpless little girl again.  I was trapped alone with the same man who had hurt me for years, and there was nobody there to help me.  It was in that moment that my secret could no longer stay hidden.  It was consuming me and I could hold onto it no longer.  The demons had to come out.  This secret was killing me...

It was in the next few days that I finally divulged this deep, dirty secret to my mother.  The response from my mother was quite shocking, but we will revisit that in a later post.  For now, I had done it...I had exposed the secret.  Please don't get the mental picture that I casually approached my mom and told her we needed to chat, sat her down and just began to tell her all of the things that had happened. Oh no, that is not at all how it went down.  While in the car with my mother driving down the road one day, I just completely lost it.  I have no idea if my mother even heard all of what I said through my uncontrollable sobs.  I was doing that blubbering cry that kids do when they get so worked up that they can hardly breath.  I was an absolute disaster.

As ungraceful as the scene was it was the first step in my healing journey.  The firm grip that satan had on me by keeping this all locked up inside had loosened.  I was about to ruin his scheme to steal, kill, and destroy me.  He wasn't about to win this one.  The truth was coming out...and it is the truth that sets us free.

Secrets make you sick...

One of the motto's of the church I attend is that "secrets make you sick."  Wow.  What depth embedded in a simple 4 word slogan.  I'm determined that sexual abuse is one of the best kept secrets around.  I wish I could say that I was the exception to the typical secret keeping behavior, but I wasn't.  I fed into the lie that most victims fall prey to.....that it was somehow my fault, that I must have deserved this, that I was a dirty person.  I hated the person I was and was too ashamed to let anyone know the truth of what was happening to me.  I thought my only way out was to hide behind a mask of secrecy.

Putting on a mask actually came quite natural for me.  You see, I was raised in a family who had mastered the art of secrecy.  From the time I was a little girl I learned the rule that many of you probably had in your own family......that what happens behind closed doors stays behind those closed doors.  By nature I am an introvert, so this "keep it quiet" family edict really did not prove that difficult.  The worse things were at home, the quieter I became, which only enhanced my ability to maintain the secrets.

Looking back, it must have been fairly obvious to my father that I was a safe target.  My father was a terrible alcoholic, and I don't mean a "happy" drunk.  Often he would yell horrible obscenities and lose control.  On one occasion he practically destroyed the inside of our house.  He went about the house only in his underwear shattering dishes, tearing framed pictures off the wall, throwing broken chair parts across the room, pulling doors off their hinges....just to name a few things.  My brother was trapped inside, hiding in his bedroom, as my mother ushered my sister and I off to my grandparents for protection.  To say I was afraid of my father as a child would be an understatement.  In fact, one of my favorite places in our house was inside my closet.  I felt safe there.  That being said, I'm guessing that when my father began sexually abusing me as a little girl, he really never feared he would be caught....besides, I sure wasn't going to tell.  It was a secret....

Before I continue to tell you parts of my story as this blog progresses, please know that though I share the parts of my story that tried to steal away my identity, there are many wonderful memories too. We took fun vacations, I played a ton of sports growing up, I had friends who I spent time with, I had swim parties at my grandparents house, and the list goes on.  Not every second of my life was tragic and I don't want to give satan any more credit than he has already taken.  Yes, I had some devastating times that tried to destroy me, but I also had some wonderful and treasured moments that I will hold dear forever.  The difference is, these weren't a big, ugly secret.  I was free to share this part of my story....in fact, I was encouraged to. 

For 26 years I kept the dark secrets of my past hidden down deep inside of me.  It was a time of painful isolation that was slowly killing me from the inside out.  It is a lonely place to be and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.   I want you to know that the beauty of the fact that "secrets make you sick," is that it is not terminal.  It is a condition that is reversible.  It might take a lot of time and support, but it is worth it in the end.  If nothing else I ever say remains in your hearts, please keep this tucked away....you can recover and become the person God created you to be.  Wherever you are in your journey, do not give up.  You, too, deserve to be healed.

Everybody has a Story...

If there is one thing I have learned, it is that just like Violet, everybody has a story.  No two stories are alike and some stories seem more harsh than others, but rest assured there is no such thing as a "perfect" life.  We live in a fallen world riddled with sin and darkness all around us.  If there is one thing we all have in common, it is that none of us are spared from it's ugly wrath.  No human is immune to it and the effects of sin are crippling.  Everywhere you look you will see it and you cannot hide from it's consequences.  It affects the young and the old, the rich and the poor and spreads to all ends of the earth.  Sometimes the consequences come as a direct result from our own sin and sometimes we are forced to pay the consequences for a sin that was committed against us.  Sometimes we just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and find ourselves victims of natural disasters, or perhaps satan hand picks us as his prey for sickness and disease. 

Violet Jessop lived to tell about her story.  I'm sure that given the choice, Violet would not have chosen to endure the tragic events that made up her story.  I'm going out on a limb here, but I am just guessing that she would have gladly skipped out on boarding the three ships that almost took her life.  Much like the rest of us, however, Violet was not given the choice.

Like Violet, I too was forced to go on a journey that I did not prefer to take...a journey that I would have avoided at all cost if given the choice.  The truth of the matter is, I was not given the choice.  Like so many of us, I am having to endure the consequences of a sin committed against me.  Unfortunately, my journey is not unique in and of itself and many others have walked through similar situations.  The sick reality is, there are more than 39 million Americans who can personally relate with me about the devastating effects of sexual abuse, not to mention the countless others around the globe.   As many as one in three girls and one in seven boys are sexually abused during their childhood.  Trust me when I tell you that not one of us chose to become part of this statistic.  None of us chose to have our childhood innocence stolen right out from under us and then have to live through the painful consequences that follow. 

My personal story begins as a young girl who was hurt by the very people I should have been able to trust the most....the very people who were put on this earth to love and protect me...my parents.  It has taken me 20 years to be able to talk about it and come to terms with the fact that this was not just a horrible nightmare.  The journey has been long and painful, but like Violet....by the grace of God I have survived the unthinkable and would like to share with you parts of my journey.

My hope and prayer for this blog is that this would be more than me just telling you my story.  I want this to be a place of safety, encouragement, and support....a place of healing.

So, who is this Violet??

Violet Jessop was an ocean line stewardess, a nurse, a daughter, a sister....but most of all, a survivor.  She was born to Irish immigrant parents who lived in Argentina.  She was the oldest of nine children, only six of which survived.  Violet herself contracted tuberculosis as a young girl and although doctors told her parents she would likely die....she survived.  

After her father died and her mother became ill, Violet was held responsible for the family income.  Violet started her sea career at the age of 21, working as a ship stewardess.  In 1911, while serving aboard the Olympic, the ship violently collided with the HMS Hawke.  Despite the damage that each ship sustained, Violet and her crew walked away practically unscathed.  They had miraculously survived a potential disaster.  

The following year at the age of 24, Violet joined the crew of the RMS Titanic.  Four days later, the Titanic struck an iceberg and began to sink.  When she was finally ordered into the 16th life boat, an officer handed her a baby to look after.   Violet cared for this baby all night while floating in the frigid waters.  The next day her life boat was rescued.  After her life boat was rescued, an unknown woman from the rescue boat grabbed the baby from Violet's cold, numb arms and without a word ran away.  Though 1517 people lost their lives during this horrible tragedy, Violet once again survived.

Four years later during World War I, Violet served as a nurse for the British Red Cross.  While she was on board His Majesty's Hospital Ship Britannic, the ship hit a mine and sank into the Aegean Sea.  While the ship was sinking, Violet was forced to jump into the waters as the ship was quickly going down.  She was sucked under the water and struck her head under the ship's keel before being rescued by a life boat.  Violet later learned she had sustained a fractured skull, but attributes her thick auburn hair to saving her life.  Violet had just survived yet another disaster. 


Violet continued her life at sea until the age of 63, where she retired to a sixteenth-century cottage and took a keen interest in gardening.  She was said to have a "green thumb."  Violet was interviewed several times about her miraculous story of survival.  Violet passed away in 1971 at the age of 84.

So by now you may be wondering, what does Violet have to do with this blog?  Though I do not have a sea career, have a "green thumb," or have a head full of thick auburn hair...I too am a survivor.