I remember it like it happened this morning, every nasty detail. His name was Jeremy and he lived across the street. He was a teenager. He seemed like a giant at the time. He was big and strong and took advantage of me. This was not just two kids experimenting, which is common. He knew what he was doing. He knew he was wrong.
It’s time to take ownership of your recovery. It’s hard work, but you can do it. No more running, no more hiding, no more masks. No matter what your journey has looked like so far, recovery is possible. I am living proof.
*Trigger Warning: This story contains graphic details of child molestation.* To be a christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God forgave the inexcusable in you. -C.S. Lewis I was twelve when my dad left my mom. To be honest, I really don’t remember what life was like before the divorce. I don’t remember the […]
It happened at a church basketball team lock-in. Coach Mills had made us shower one at a time while he sat and watched us. It didn’t feel strange because there was only one shower in the gym for us to use. What was strange was the way he looked at us. Another kid Joey was on the basketball team too. Before we went to bed, Joey said to me, “That was weird.”
When abuse is your first memory, it colors who you are.
I was molested when I was a preschooler, and it has rippled through my life ever since. The “predator” was a 17-year-old kid who lived across the street. And knew my family well.
Abuse happens. It is scary and horrific and life changing, and we victims are all terrified it will happen to our children the way it happened to us.
But we have to be honest about where abuse happens. It is so very very rarely a stranger in a public restroom.
What do you do when those who are supposed to raise you, care for you, and protect you don’t do their job? As a Christian, how do you reconcile childhood trauma with a faith that teaches unconditional love, praying for your enemies, and grace for the even the worst of sinners? In today’s guest post, Tracey […]
For months, my counselor and I worked toward dealing with my emotions instead of shoving them down into the acid that sat in my belly along with all the bad memories. At the bottom of all the junk in my soul, I found grace, resolve, understanding, and forgiveness — for my mom, for my ex-husband, but most of all, for me.