When you’re little, you’re often told that if someone is hurting you or being mean seek an adult. I’d been called a ‘b*tch’ by a classmate who tried to steal my pencil and I told the teacher. As a result, the entire class had turned on me for ‘snitching.’ After being mocked and bullied, what was the point in ‘seeking a grown up.’ It was apparent to me that doing what the adults said to do was actually harmful. Sadly, that wasn’t the only example. 

When I was 10, we lived in Fresno. My mom made a poor choice in boyfriend material, and he was abusive and scary. He would stand outside our windows in the middle of the night with a flashlight… Throw my mom behind closed doors and beat her… And in the middle of the day, while he was going berserk, I was screaming in tears and hanging outside of my second story window screaming for help. Our downstairs neighbors were our friends. While the young girl came outside to try to see what I needed… Her mom grabbed her arm, pulled her inside, refused to look at me, and shut the door… They didn’t call anyone. 

In this same year, I was friends with a little girl who’s father molested her constantly and when she said no one believed her, I did. I knew what that felt like, so, I vowed to spend the night with her and we slept in the bathtub together to avoid her father. 

I would get beat for having fun… Being 30 mins late… Told to babysit my brother when I wasn’t even old enough to be without a babysitter… And made fun of for how I was dressed, how I smelled like smoke, how I had bad teeth, or even how I had moved so much I didn’t know my address or phone number by heart… Kids seemed to hate me for stupid things… I even courageously gave a valentine to a crush and he laughingly tried to give it back to me. And on top of it all, I was abused sexually, treated with pity by those who were supposed to be family, and utterly alone. 

It honestly felt as though it didn’t matter what I did, I was on my own. So, I adjusted. In fact, we moved so frequently, I never really had resolution from any circumstances of embarrassment, bullying, or mocking so I never knew what it actually meant to persevere passed it. Rather, I figured that’s just the way it is and I lived there in that hellish belief. 

So, I became adaptable. I was quiet in a strategic way. I had to watch, observe, and understand who was around me in order for me to speak or act because I needed to make sure they’d like me. I needed to make sure I didn’t get hit. I needed to make sure my brother was safe. I needed to make sure I made everyone happy… So, I became whoever it seemed they wanted me to be. 

I lived that way for many, many years. I made up imaginary friends and boyfriends with awesome stories about how much they loved me and how much fun we had… I even half planned a funeral for a fake boyfriend who fake got shot… Just to manipulate other kids into thinking I was cool and likeable. I acted like I had all of my sh*t together. I never told everyone about the hell I’d seen because every time I told anyone anything when seeking help, it’d backfired. 

Another friend says to me, all the time, that hurt people hurt people. I’ve known that for a while, but it’s really been on my heart lately. 

Some of my mistakes, out of pride and fear, have not just hurt me, but others.​ It’s been hard to truly know who I am, but ​​​I know in my heart I would lay down my life for others, because I have. I know that my intentions are never to hurt anyone… Because every time I have hurt someone, I’ve remembered it and held a grudge against myself… Disallowing anyone to truly love or forgive me because I’ve believed it’s who I really was. So, I don’t deserve love. I have held on to those mistakes for too long.

My dad was an alcoholic and he’s been sober for a little longer than I’ve been alive. He always told me that one day he just knew he wasn’t going to do it anymore, and he stopped… Easy-peesy. Lately, I get similar concepts from Christians who act as though the moment I accepted Christ into my heart, He lives there, so my human flesh should be dead… 

Suddenly, I am healed. Suddenly, I don’t have to have rough times. Suddenly, ALL of my trust and hope and control would be handed to God and I’d be no longer a sinner. But what did that do to someone like me? It convinced me that something is wrong with me. I am not loved enough by God or my faith is too weak or I’ll never be strong enough. It told me that if I was really ‘of God’ then I’d have a better mindset yesterday. So where do you think my mind went then… I was an atheist for a long time… So, perhaps this is the proof that God’s not real… Even though there is undeniable proof that He is and has been in my life. 

Change is probably the most beautiful part of life… Even in its tragedy. While nothing can take back what’s already happened, I have this power inside of me… A gift… Something I can’t deny… Something that embodies hope… Grace… Mercy… Love. Because of this power, I am not that person anymore. But God has been teaching me baby steps… It’s not a snap your fingers kind of process for all of us. In fact, I honestly don’t believe God even wants that for me. He wants to walk with me through every single moment of healing. 

See, He has been teaching me that I can’t just be this too-smart-for-her-own-good, manipulative, prideful, overthinking, over controlling, scared little girl… it wasn’t who He created me to be. Instead, the world shaped me this way… The world lied and no one was there to point it out. As a result, He pulls up these little memories and tells me, “that’s why you feel this way… Now let’s work on reminding yourself which was the lie and which is the truth…” 

I will continue to make mistakes until the day I pass on, its time I learn to love my imperfections and face my demons one by one.

It’s, by far, the best choice I ever made. I’m learning and I’m better every day. Thankful, blessed, and ready to conquer the world alongside my savior. I don’t personally care about heaven or salvation, I just care about the fact that there is a God, living and true, who knows every mistake I’ve ever made, every pain I’ve ever felt or caused, and He LOVES ME.

This is why I live for Him. He not only knows what’s best for me, but I don’t have to adapt for Him to love me… I just have to love Him back. In a strange way, He is introducing broken me to the me He knew was coming… And I love it.