Being Molested – And Avoiding The Consequences
Editor’s Note: It is estimated that 2 out of 3 women have been victims of rape, sexual assault, or molestation. It can be very hard to allow yourself take on the label of “victim,” but I have found that moving forwards comes only when we acknowledge the truth of our past. Today’s post is beautiful, and it is by Yessenia Carrera. She tweets at @ycarrera and blogs at Forgiveness Like A Crown. – Lauren
The funny thing about being six years old is that everything is a game. When your sister’s friend asks you play house, you think nothing of it. When you find yourself under the covers performing sexual acts with her, it’s just…what you happen to be doing.
It wasn’t until a few years ago (I am currently 21) that I fully understood and accepted what went on in my childhood’s version of “playing house.”
The truth is this. An eight-year-old girl molested me, and my mind never fully comprehended it. Somehow, the little girl inside of me knew what was happening and she frantically took cover, seeking to steer clear of any emotional ramifications. For most of my life, I thought I had avoided grappling with the messy consequences from being molested. In reality, I battled endlessly against intimacy my entire adolescence.
In high school, my life turned into a whirlwind of breakups, church separations, popularity and alcohol. When I dove completely into the deep end of parties, lying, sneaking out, and lashing out, I saw that although everything inside of me wanted to throw my body into the raging hurricane I had created, there was nothing inside of me that longed to be intimate with anyone.
I wanted the label of girlfriend, the texts, the phone calls – but when it got anywhere near anything that hinted of intimacy, I was out. At that time, I mocked myself because in the midst of all my rebellion, I was managing to keep my purity well…pure. How “good” of me, right?
Well, yes and no. Yes, because by God’s grace I managed to keep sexual repertoire unsoiled. And no, because it was out of denial, blame and anger that I managed to “stay pure.” Don’t get me wrong, I praise God every day I will be able to share a special moment with my future husband, but my perception of everything was really screwed up.
There was guilt, shame, anger, and loneliness filling the chasm between the Lover and my soul; a chasm too wide for Love to fill… or so I thought.
I never saw the connection between my forced sexuality at six years old and intimacy until Jesus Christ rocked my world on a gritty Tennessee floor.
At age eighteen, I understood what Jesus did on the cross for me and I finally knew what reconciliation felt like. It was glorious, but before there was reconciliation, there were messy realizations. I purposefully peeled back the painful memory of what it was to be trusting six year old. After twelve years of closeting emotions, events, blame and sensations, remembering sounds a bit cruel – but Jesus did NOT ask me to reel back the tape in order to judge or condemn me, but to heal the six-year-old eager eyed girl. He spoke restoration into my soul. He assured me that it was okay to open up my heart to the one who created it.
My life was changed before I had a say in it. Jesus invites us into a deep closeness with Him. Intimacy. That word we squirm when we hear. He knows how many hairs are on my head, He knows everything about me, and everything about my past and He wonderfully chooses to love me anyway. That truth invites me to know everything I can about Him. It invites me to lay me head on His strong chest and hear His heartbeat. It calls me to love what He loves and hate what He hates. It’s…romantic. Seriously.
I did not know how to handle the idea that someone so perfect wanted to be so close to me – and wanted me to be close to Him too. That is the beauty of Jesus. It is a beautiful, beautiful story of God loving His children into a relationship with Himself.
It has been three years since I consciously began to accept the love that transcends all understanding and the clears away my past.
Sometimes I still don’t know what to do with a Love like that.
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