Finding your voice
My journey began two years ago when someone I loved dearly walked out on me. At the moment the only thing I did was beg them to stay. Why? Well... the obvious answer would have been because I loved him, but in reality, it could not be further from the truth. When I was sixteen my ex-boyfriend SA'd me. When it happened he begged me until I said yes. I remember it vividly...as I tried keeping my pants up, he kept tugging at it asking me to have intercourse. I kept telling him I wanted to wait till marriage, that I was not sure if I wanted to do it. After a while, I gave in, stupidly only asking him if he loved me. After it had happened I felt disgusted with myself, but did not reminisce over it too much since I had "given" consent. I started to notice small changes in him. He stopped doing the bare minimum, I had to beg him to take me on dates, to acknowledge my feelings as a human. The relationship had gotten to a point where we would argue over the same thing, "do you even like me for me?" These arguments would lead me to cry on Facetime while he would turn the other way and fall asleep. The only times I would hear the word "beautiful" was when I had no clothes on. I did not love him unless I sent nudes and if I did not then I was the reason for his porn addiction. I was never good enough...I was too much...too weird. I would fall asleep begging God for a sign and I knew the answer, but a part of me did not want it to be true. The harsh reality was he only wanted one thing, the most sacred thing I had. Even after all that harsh treatment, I kept letting him touch me, however, I thought if I initiated first I would not hate myself as much because I was the one wanting it. This kept going for three years. A week before my birthday he broke up with me and told me had only desired me sexually. Months later I got replaced by someone else. Watching how he treated her versus how he treated me, broke me. I did not have anyone to talk to, I had nightmares about what had happened. I fell into a deep depression that had affected my grades. I hated every part of me. The person I was before would never be seen again. I had lost my spark. As I watched the person who had hurt me find happiness with no punishment whatsoever made me rage to the point I started to judge God for what he had done. I come here to tell you that it was a moment that changed everything. The aftermath was overwhelming, filled with emotions I couldn’t fully understand—fear, shame, anger, and sadness. I didn’t know how to move forward or if I ever could.
But slowly, piece by piece, I began to find my way back to myself. My parents had taken me to a church retreat that would change my life forever. I built a relationship with God who showed me what real love is. Through support from loved ones, journaling, and other tools, I learned that healing isn’t about forgetting or pretending the pain doesn’t exist—it’s about finding ways to carry it without letting it define me.
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