Sexual Abuse and Lessons Learned

Growing up, I was no stranger to sexual abuse including rape. It seemed to come at me from everywhere I turned, and I couldn't tell anyone because I would tear the family apart and besides, I deserved it anyway. I did try telling people once. I told a teacher at my middle school and before the day was over, my mother knew. Then my whole family knew. Then I had it pounded into me that I was going to tear the family apart and I deserved it. That's where that thought came from. The one rape I did report, never went to court because I couldn't testify. I was terrified to. Can you honestly blame me when I had those ideas forced on me? All of my rapists have gotten off. 

For the longest time, I blamed myself. I believed the lies that were sent my way. That somehow, someway, it was my fault. I deserved it. I was less because of this abuse. I wasn't a worthy person. That's all I was good for. Sex trafficking. I considered prostitution. (Thankfully, I never followed through on this thought!) I was truly convinced that there was nothing that could make me a better person, and I carried these feelings around. That guilt gnawed at me, slowly tearing me down. I was nothing. I wasn't any good. 

A good portion of this abuse happened in the summer of 2004, and that might actually surprise a lot of people. But it might also answer a lot of questions. Middle school was hard for me as it was, but throw sexual abuse on top of it? Yup, I was done. Mentally, I snapped. School, which had always been a safe haven for me, no longer held the same appeal. I couldn't bring myself to do my schoolwork and my grades starting slipping, and I was even more withdrawn than usual, but I somehow managed to finish middle school. Then high school hit, with new problems and a lot of the same ones. You guessed it, the sexual abuse did not stop. Fan-freakin-tastic.

But towards the end of my freshman year, something happened. Something positive. Rocky Steele showed up at my door and invited me to attend church and offered me a ride with his family. Then he set up missionary discussions for me. During one of the lessons, I was being taught about the Law of Chastity, and started crying. I asked them what would happen to someone who did not choose to have sex, but was forced to. I was sure they would tell me that I was in trouble. That I should have stopped it, it was my fault, and that they would no longer teach me about the gospel. But that didn't happen. 

The missionaries stopped the lesson and Brother Steele explained to me that rape was different. I had not broken the law of chastity. If I remember correctly, the missionaries did not continue with the planned lesson, but rather we all prayed. I can't express to you the feeling of love and warmth that swept over me during that prayer. I knew that I what I had been told by these missionaries and Brother Steele was true- I was not at fault. 

Now, this didn't fix everything, and I'm still learning and healing from my years of sexual abuse, but I'm nowhere near where I was when I was fifteen and investigating the LDS church. I am able to trust men a little bit more, heck, I'm married and I don't have any sort of flashbacks when we are together. I found that just because all these people were telling me that I was worthless and only good for sex, doesn't mean it's true. They were, and are, wrong. This abuse does not make me less of a person, but it has made me stronger. I know how to help others better when they have been through a similar situation, and for that reason alone it was not in vain. No, I wouldn't go through it again if I had a choice, but I am grateful I did go through it. These experiences have brought me closer to Christ, as well as Michael, and have made it so I am able to help guide others through these feelings of guilt and worthlessness.

I am no longer a victim, I am a survivor, and I will continue to fight for myself and others.