If I talk about it, it seems real. Like it really did happen. Therefore, I stay quiet and just allow others to think what they want. It's easier than feeling and remembering the pain of yesterday. It's easier just to wear the label of slut, promiscuous teenager or whatever else others might label me as they judge me.
The ones close to me know but many people aren't allowed to get close - my own choice. Those who know, only know some. They only know what I allow them to know. It's easier. Feels safer.
I thought it was working...
But now I have come to the realization that it's not working.
It's tearing me up inside and it's consuming many thoughts and much energy in which there are such greater blessings to invoke my thoughts. It domineers all of my relationships. It hurts my marriage.
Pretending it didn't happen has sabotaged so many potential friendships due to lack of trust and fear of letting someone see my tarnish. That night, when I came home and scrubbed my skin until it bled, I never really rid myself of the disgusting feeling I felt. I still carry it with me... I cannot pretend that it worked.
But... It really happened. It was hard. I was horrible. However, it made me who I am today. I am a lover and follower of Christ. I am a beloved wife and mother. I am a woman who survived.
However, I am not completely blameless in the lack of judgement and choices in which I made. It's not my fault.
I am a victim. I did not "ask for it" as I was told and I did not "bring it upon myself because I took care of myself". None of that is true. I am a victim.
Out of my greatest anguish, fear and heartache came my greatest light - a renewed relationship with my savior and a beautiful son - a reminder of God's promises. Even if you are in your darkest hour - a dark alley with no hope in sight - the Lord is with you and if you love Him and turn to Him and His promises, He will never leave you nor forsake you. A reminder that from the dark, there is still Light.
This was my getting it out post. My vent. My searching for a way to get this out so I can claim a good night's sleep again. One without nightmares. One without fearing what tomorrow will bring. This was my silent voice - a voice of typed words on a computer screen. And while I spoke that silent voice, I must be honest and say that my vocal voice is not ready to quit pretending. I am not yet ready to stand face to face and discuss this. I'm just not there yet. I am hoping one day I might be but I cannot promise that either. It is my hope and my prayer that the Lord will one day use me and help other silent women who have endured sexual violence.
"He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds."