My Story: Part 7 [The Hardest Part]

I have written and re-written this part of my story a few times. These past few weeks I have felt at a loss of words when it comes to the continuation of “My Story”. This is the reason I started writing this Series: to specifically share this part of my story. Why, then, is it so difficult to tell?

How much do I tell?
What will people say?
Who will I hurt?

With a deep breath, and many prayers offered up to the Lord, I’m ready and willing to share my story of pain and heartache. But, I’m not going to share the gory-details. I have decided that those details are best left said over a cup of coffee, face-to-face, to the women who really need to hear it.

Part 6:My First Boyfriend described the fateful decision that I made to enter into a relationship with an older “man”. The fateful decision that went against the wisdom of family members, and concerned friends. After I broke up with my first boyfriend, I spiralled out of control. I was in serious danger, and everybody around me could see it. My relationships with close friends disintegrated. My relationships with family, especially my mom, became so strained and uncommunicative.

The truth was that behind my 16-year-old rebellion was the darkest of secrets. Whenever I turned to someone for healing and solace, I experienced a stony wall. This was my problem, and I needed to find a way to deal with it myself. That was the answer I heard, over and over again, until finally I stopped looking for healing. Instead, I covered up the scars and wounds so violently inflicted upon me with more wounds. With boy, after boy, after boy.

For my senior years of high school I was deeply hurt and confused, and I continued to spiral. Finally, it was time to choose University. I wanted to escape the hell I had created for myself. I wanted a new and fresh start. I chose McMaster University in Hamilton, it was one of the few schools where none of my friends or acquaintances in high school were going. I chose it because I wanted to be just another face in the crowd, for once.

In my first week at McMaster I completely lost any of the self-control and self-respect that had remained. I had blown my new start. Already, I was the laughing-stock in my building. Already, I was tarnished and never to be trusted. By some miracle, I also ended up in a Campus for Christ meeting. None of these people knew who I was, what my reputation was already at this school. I clung to my anonymity once again. I clung to my fresh start, to be someone else, someone who deserved respect.

In the end, I simply didn’t change. I made friends in my dorm, and I turned my horrible reputation into a joke. People thought I was funny, and that I just couldn’t help myself. I was proud of myself. I turned something pretty horrible into a conversation starter. I was ingenious.

By second year of university I had a steady boyfriend. I started to have some hope. I longed for someone to take notice of me, to love me, and truly want to be with me. On the outside, it seemed that this new relationship was really blossoming and growing. In reality, it was going nowhere, and fast. By Christmas 2008 we had broken up (I think it may have been on Christmas Day).

I was devastated. My last hope. My final opportunity. I was broken beyond repair. I spent most of January 2009 in a fog of depression. I cried myself to sleep every night. I angrily bashed my head against the door, just to feel something. I shovelled the snow in my t-shirt, hoping that the cold would penetrate my skin and shake me awake. I was a joke. The past few years I had spent running from the awful pain of what was done to me, that I had destroyed myself with my own actions.

I started reading scripture.
I started listening to godly men and women preach the Good News.
I started praying.
I started talking to my Christian friends.

I started changing. The Lord started changing me. For years, I had been trying to fix myself. Finally, I was too weak to try. He did it. He repaired my damaged heart. He healed me. I didn’t move (literally – I stayed inside my house for probably 2-months). Somehow, I didn’t fail university. I just prayed, and prayed, and prayed. He changed my life. He erased my reputation.

I went to my Father, my God. I knelt before him. I presented him with my darkest secret of all. The secret that I had harboured in my heart for 4-years. I released it to him. Waiting, praying, wondering, would he just be another stony wall? He reached out and held me. He was tender and loving, in ways that I had never experienced. He healed the wound within my heart, and told me that there is another way. There is another way to live with this dark secret.

Slowly, I got up from the dark pit, and released the demons that had held me down for so long. I followed my Father God down a glorious path. I began to live another way.

To Be Continued...

If you have a dark secret that you're afraid to share, please e-mail me at thisrookiewife@gmail.com
I promise you, I won't be another stony wall

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