One Great Liar

My heart breaks open as I continue on this journey. I recently discovered that I may sicker than I thought I was. I discovered that I am a very convincing liar and am able to portray to others exactly what I want them to see. My friend told me that the word "perfectionist" and the thought of me go together. Which was odd to me as I thought about how I've allowed myself to become the weight that I am and how messy my apartment is. I knew how much of a failure I was and how could she not know that too? I knew my thoughts and I knew my actions and I knew that I was farther from perfect than the worse person you could imagine. I knew I wasn't perfect and I definitely was not a "perfectionist."

Then I got to thinking....most people see a smile, know I love God, see my work ethic, see how I take pride in projection being perfect on Sunday mornings and see a giver. I realized as I walked out of my counselor's office this week without confessing to falling into major temptation that there are lots of things she doesn't know about me. I realized this past week or so that I am a great liar and people look at me and think that I have it all together and on the right path...and I have lied to them because I am not those things.

The wounds on my arms, the pounds on my body, the tears I cry and the dark thoughts in my head...those things I keep hidden even from the people I know think they love me and have earned my trust over the years.

As I continue to be honest with myself, I discovered that I don't feel worthy of being loved...still after all this time and graduating Mercy and everything...I still believe that I'm not perfect enough. I hide my imperfections in my weight and my insurance has asked me to work on that in order to keep my benefits - so now my only protection is being taken away from me and I can't handle the pressure. When I focus on that stuff, I get sick..I start purging, negative self-talk becomes rampant and I give in to self-harm.

All I want to be is the person I'm supposed to be at this point in my life. I'm not supposed to be depressed. I'm not supposed to be self-harming. I'm not supposed to feel unloveable. I'm not supposed to be this fat again. I am not supposed to feel distant from God. And I'm not supposed to be sick. I'm supposed to be living in freedom and yet the more honest I get with myself, the more I realize just how trapped I truly am.

My sister very well may be moving out to where the rest of our family is. She's the last thing I have to family and I know that if she moves our relationship with die. I also know, that as the days tick by and nothing comes from making that police report, I just want to take it all back - from the very beginning. I just want to have my mother back and I can't have her back because she belongs to my abuser. And I wonder to myself if on some level if I still feel as though I belong to him....that's really messed up.

I don't want to be this sick person anymore. And yet, I don't know if I'm ready to truly and 100 percent be honest with myself and where I am at currently. Honesty sucks and yet I know its the only way I'll get back to being completely free. But who do I trust with my most dark places? How do I move forward out of the dark? How do I face my fears and live life completely different? How do I move on? How do I do it safely without harming myself in any way?

I don't know what to do about being a liar. And I don't know what to do about these fears of mine.

Mother's Day Reflections

Mother's Day. Probably the day I dread the most out of the 365 each year. All holidays remind me of very seperated I am from my family, but this day reminds me most of how much my Mother has hurt me.

It is challenging to be in this place - a season of pain and joy. This grey area between hating my Mother for choosing my abuser and loving her so much it takes all I have to not call her. This piece of human nature that says Mothers love their children more than anything else on earth ~ its a lie that screams in my face every day (especially on Mother's Day).

My Mother once made promises to her brand new baby. She was with me as I struggled to survive in the NICU at Stanford and she was with me when I broke my wrist in Kindergarten. She was there when I started cheerleading and she was there on my 10th birthday. Then something changed and she was no longer present with me. She lived in the house I was abused in. She married the man that destroyed my soul. She pushed me aside when I started cutting. She begged me to lie to her about her husband. She told me I ruined her life and hung up the phone. She abandoned me when I needed her most.

I miss my Mother of my young childhood. I miss knowing that she loved me. I miss thinking that she'd believe me. I miss the Mom I had before. If only she would love me more than the person who tore me apart.

Even in the pain, I am thankful for the "moms and sisters" I have gained through Christ. For they keep teaching me what it means to love and be loved. Though I know I sometimes push them away, God has given me such wonderful women to learn from and trust in. Its not the same of course, for my Mother has wounded my ability to be a daughter, but I'll take it and hope one day I able to break the curse that was bestowed upon me.

This day is hard for my soul to bear.

So many thoughts and emotions....

Somehow, I've lost myself in looking at your pictures. You seem to have been getting in shape. I remember when I was doing better with weight loss - but somehow the way you controlled me all those years brought back all the fears and I gained it all back. Thankfully - even though I'm scared to death of losing the weight, my insurance is now making it almost impossible to not do something about it. Now, it just comes down to doing it. I've let you hold me in silence for all these years and as I see you lose weight and become healthy, it makes me hate you even more. To think that somehow you're life is good and well and you're not struggling - makes me want to scream. How can you be living such a life after the horrible things you did and never admitted to? How did I get stuck with all the guilt and shame and fear?

I have struggled with allowing myself to lose weight - in the back of my mind I constantly worry that someone else will do what you did. I am scared to death of finding a husband and being married because I don't know if I'll ever be well enough to want someone's affection again. You have me scarred with filth and it seems as though since I've been BIG no one cares to look at me with the same eyes you once did. I like it that way. Those times when I was younger and those people pulled up to the side of the road - I'm grateful that I never got in their cars, I'm grateful that I no longer get that happening to me. And yet, I know I enjoy being healthy and I liked it when I had lost all that weight, except for the fear that came with it.

I have all these thoughts going around in my head and now I'm predicting tonight to be a stressful night and not getting much sleep.

I hate that you messed up my life and I'll know never know a life where abuse wasn't there. I'll never understand what it means to go into a marriage clean. You stole my life when I was only 10 years old and I am doing everything I can to get it back.I pray that I have lost weight before I actually see you face to face. I pray that I don't let you push me back into silence. I pray that I'm following God's will and that He works everything out. I'm not sure I'm up for jumping through ropes or drawn out trials. I just want this to be over with. I want to over come you and everything you mean in my world. I want to be on the other side of this so that my story will matter.

The day just keeps getting closer to when I take the first step in fighting you and everything that tells me I was in the wrong. I was a child and you twisted my world to revolve around you and sexual things to please you. It was wrong what you did and I pray that the verdict turns out in my favor in the end for I do not know if I can handle a jury saying otherwise. I do pray that I have the strength to sit in front of you and my mother and share the story from my lips for the first time and that you realize what you did and just how traumatizing it really was to my soul. My wound will bleed that day and it will be because of you.

23 1/2 days left....

23 days left until I meet with a legal advocate. 24 days till I make my way to two police stations and change the lives of everyone affected by what the monster did to me. Today, I sat in my living room journaling to my Jesus, and the fear just overwhelmed me. The pain that comes from the very center of my being and tries to overtake my life is often too much to bear. I am grateful for my Savior in these moments because I know that He is right there beside me, protecting me and calming me. Even when the pain is too much, I still feel confident in my decision and I know that this has to be done. As I write, talk and think about the memories that play in my mind, my humanness betrays me and fear, anger, depression and repulsion pulsates through my veins. The pain I keep in a locked vault leaks through the cracks and it takes a Savior to keep me from its devastating power.

In just over 3 weeks, I will have begun to do everything I can to prevent this monster from taking another child into its menacing grip.

I have this thought that keeps coming to mind ever since I thought it in counseling this week. "What if my mother knew?" "What if she 'sold' me to him in exchange for her own happiness?" "What if she wasn't as blind as I thought she was?" My mind plays these tricks on me, attacks from the evil one who wants to keep me quiet and locked in shame. Even if she didn't verbally say this is what she was doing, my feelings and thoughts make it obvious that her happiness was more important than my safety.

And today as I was preparing myself a little more for what's to come after my family becomes aware of the charges being pressed against their beloved father figure, the pain of a life lost was too much to bear. How do I defend my actions to my family members - by telling them of the girl he destroyed, how I will never be the person I could have been. My life ended after that first time and I am only now realizing that I have gotten it back, 100 fold with more to come.

My Savior keeps me safe now. He eases the pain that makes itself known without warning. He dries the tears and comforts me, a sinful human. My Savior is the only thing that keeps me from losing myself to the pain and is helping me to defeat it once and for all by guiding my footsteps and being in complete control.

Today as I feel the pain again, I also feel the comfort and I am so grateful for the comfort.

Courage from Pain

Your picture is available on facebook. Every time I look at your face, I feel as if I've taken a punch to the stomach. I quite literally feel the pain of your very existence in my life. And everytime I read your wife's statuses I am reminded of how weak she is and how greatly you have conditioned her mind to be solely devoted to you. I look into your eyes in your photograph and I remember the way they told me it was time. I see your smile and I know your teeth are all fake and I can feel your lips on my body. I see that you've lost weight and I can imagine you feel pretty good about yourself. I see the glasses set on your face held in position by your large nose and I see your age and my stomach churns with acid.


Slowly, this happy face of yours reveals the monster that lurks just beneath the surface. I don't know why I look at your picture because every time I do, the fear and shame come rushing to the surface. Your very picture ruins my day and I am doomed to spend the next few hours fighting depression - hoping to succeed and not have to deal with the pain any longer than needed.


And because of the emotions that come from looking at the picture of your evilness, I gain strength knowing that I can fight and overcome you. I must put aside the thoughts regarding my family and how they will respond. I must put aside the feelings that I get when I think about how this will cause drama in their lives. None of them even suspect that I am about to fight you, harder than you've ever been fought. For I am no longer a trapped 11 year old girl fighting for survival. I am a strong, woman of God who knows that what was done to her was extremely wrong. Since the truth has come out, you've been victorious in keeping me from knowing true, unconditional love from my family members. 5 years later, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loves me enough to perfectly orchestrate the persons who will be in the court room with us. I know that somehow, all of this is going to work out because God is in control and He is the One that wants this.



I can't believe its been 6 years since I've been home, since I've been in the same room with you, since I've even spoken your name. In February it will be 6 years since your wife called me, finally knowing the truth about you and telling me that I had just ruined her life. Though, it only seems to have gotten better for the two of you and my mother is now more dependent on you than she's ever been. My heart breaks into a million pieces when I think about all the pain you have caused me and my family. The very thought of going through with this legal process, brings back all the fears that you once controlled me with.

However, this pain that rips apart the center of my soul is exactly what drives me forward. I am pursuing this with God on my side, determined to do all that I can to keep more little girls from the same fate. The wound that bleeds from the simple image of your face is exactly what pushes me towards complete healing. I know that God will be standing next to me, holding me firm and upright as I do what He has asked of me. Through the pain, I am given courage to fight. I am taking back my voice and the control and God is the One I choose to please.

Its been 8 years...

The last time I saw my father, we ended up getting pulled over by the cops. My sister and I sat on the ground while the cops searched his car and decided that he would not be able to drive anymore. They had us call our aunt to come pick us up and they took him to the metro station. My aunt had horrible things to say about him while talking to my mother on the phone, updating her on how much of a loser our father is.

Then we visited this family that we grew up with. The girl that was my age had a baby prematurely, so I spent time in the hospital with her and the baby girl. The family was in the midst of a divorce. The older brother was a drug addict. The younger girl, probably followed in their steps. I don't even know their knows anymore.

We went to a few movies and that was it. 7 1/2 years later, he wants to see me. I thought it was longer than that, because I honestly don't remember visiting during high school, but apparently I did. Which makes a little bit of sense considering I did see my grandmother before she died, and she was sick at the time - so I was 15 or 16, not 13 or 14 like I thought.

Tomorrow night, I will see the man who handed me over to my mother's husband without ever really looking back. He wanted that man to adopt us, so he wouldn't be responsible for us financially - not like he ever paid anyways. I will see the face that goes with my the voice on the other end of the phone every couple of months for 10 minutes. This man who abused my mother and neglected us kids. Tomorrow I will have dinner with a man who my siblings hate. Tomorrow I will sit across the table from the person who did not protect me against the evil man my mother married.

I pray the weather is good and driving is not a problem...if I have to, I know backroads from half way of my trip to meet him.

I feel so emotionally drained already and I still have counseling and haven't even seen him yet. Geez. I hope this is the right thing to do. Maybe we'll get a freak blizzard and they'll cancel on me. I wouldn't be totally disappointed with that, especially since the weekend is going to be crazy weather. Sadness has quite a hold on me lately.

Beginning the Process

My fears grow bigger as I try to submit them over to Jesus. I continously bring them to His feet in hopes that He'll just make them go away. But the tears come when I think about the process I'm entering. I've made a decision to have my abuser prosecuted and with that confidence in Christ, satan is making every attempt to trap me into hiding again. But I refuse to go there. I want so much to allow Jesus this victory and to walk with Him through this battle. I feel weak and unable to win against this giant, but I believe that God is right there, planning out everything and who I need to talk with and how to go about gaining more freedom. Speaking my story in grave detail is scary, even just acknowledging it as something that happened to me and not something I did is scary. But in order for this to no longer have power over me, I have to face it head on.

My biggest fear in my selfish life is that my family will side with him, wholeheartedly. I fear that no one will stand by me when it comes to my family. No whether they will testify for him is another thing that I do not know. I hold on to this fantasy that one day, just maybe my mom will call me and tell me that she believes me and she's sorry and she's leaving him. I keep hoping that he'll just admit to what he did and give me back my family - allow us to heal without him in our way. Going through with this will bring out the truth, make everyone face it head on. I want them to hear what I have to say. I want them to care enough to listen to my voice and my story and know that I'm not just "sick."

My journey is just beginning with this. I keep handing over all my fears and doubts to Jesus, trusting Him that without this I'll be failing the little girls he comes into contact with now. I need to do everything in my power to prevent him from hurting them - everything. And that includes making him sit in front of me and listen to everything he did to me.

I'm not going to pretend that I'm not scared. But with this fear I will continue to walk with God in this process. I want Him to be the center of the whole thing. He's the person placing people in my life that can help me. As I play "phone tag" with the legal advocate in Illinois, I pray to Jesus that He calms my fears and helps me to be level headed during this process. I want only for my abuser to face what he did, be prevented from hurting other girls, and to no longer have power over me in anyway. I want to expose the reality that abusers are not just "crazies" running the streets, but are ministers, teachers, camp counselors and family members.

Step One of this process has begun. Tonight I meet with my pastor to pray about some of this stuff. I want to be in God's will for this. I don't want it to be my own selfishness. And I don't want him hurting those girls ~ they are who I think about. All it takes is one "accidental slip" of the hand to damage a child, he shouldn't have that opportunity at all.

So it begins.....