I am so honored today to have this precious friend as a guest blogger on my blog, telling HER story in HER words. I want to let you know my perspective of her story. I've known this friend for years, and I've known her to be a loving, thoughtful, caring and kind friend, wife and mother. About eighteen months ago, she reached out and asked me to pray for her as she stood on a stage in front of thousands of college kids to tell her story. Before that, I had no idea of the pain she had endured. She has a powerful story of dark days, deep pain and God's healing. Now, she is in a season of redemption where she is using her story and telling it in order to speak into the lives of other victims. She is the real deal. These words of encouragement are not platitudes. They are truths hard fought to come to fruition in her life. We all have powerful stories. I'm privileged that my blog can be a platform to allow her to tell hers. My prayer is that it will bring light to a dark subject and bring healing to other victims and those who love them.
I should start this post off by telling you a little bit
about me and my story so you’ll know where I’m coming from as I write
this. I am currently a 38 year old wife
and mom. When I am not doing all kinds
of wifey and mommy things, I talk to groups about sexual assault—about prevention
and recovery. I do not have any kind of
college degree that would qualify me to talk about this topic, but I lived
through sexual assault as a 20 year old college junior.
I grew up in a very stable, very conservative Christian
home, the oldest of 3 kids. I usually
describe my parents as Ward and June Cleaver (ya know, of Beaver fame). I was a high achiever and very typical first
child—perfectionist, type A, anal retentive, tightly wound. Pick your adjective and I pretty much fit all
of them heading into college. I
professed a belief in Jesus Christ from childhood, but my faith was pretty
shallow and rules bound—I follow the rules and God will just bless my socks
off, right?! I chose to go to a
Christian University in the south—in the same city where I grew up.
My freshman year, I joined a sorority. They were known as fun girls but not nearly
the worst on campus—about half rule breakers and half wholesome Christian
types. I was on a merit-based
scholarship, so while I definitely joined in some of their fun, I pretty much
still colored in the lines. I was doing
really well in school, appropriately balancing school and social life, and had
just been voted Vice President of my sorority in January. I had a long term on again, off again boyfriend
who had taken off to Europe for a semester abroad, so I had more freedom that
spring semester than I felt I had up until that point in college.
On April 19, 1997, I joined a good friend and her parents at
a local Mexican food restaurant to celebrate her 21st birthday. I was still just 20 and while I had done my
share of underage drinking, that night I was to be the designated driver so I
didn’t have anything to drink prior to the one drink I would have at the party.
My roommate and I finished with the
official activities and went to a party held at the house of some good friends.
At this point, I’m going to skip to the punch line because I
realize that other victims of sexual assault might be reading this and there
are all sorts of things that act as triggers to women who have lived through a
sexual assault. That night, I was raped
by a male friend. We had been friends
since freshman year. We had both gone abroad through our university’s summer
study program the previous summer, and we shared a major. We were actually study partners that semester
as we had a couple of the same classes.
God is gracious in that I do not remember a lot of the
details. I ended up accepting a drink
from him that night, and the police believe it was drugged with Rohypnol—the
date rape drug. Mercifully, whether as a
side effect of the Rohypnol or as a result of Post Traumatic Stress, my memory
of the actual assault is not very vivid.
I remember lots of detail leading up to the assault but almost nothing
of the assault itself.
SO, when Heather at Clinging To The Vine asked me to write
this, she asked what I would say to other victims. But I’d also like to address
people in general about how to help if you find yourself in a situation where
this has happened to a friend. If you
have a friend that this happens to, then your job, whether you want it or not,
is to immediately be the voice of logic.
My roommate handled the situation about as perfectly as someone
could. She did NOT insist I go to the
hospital, though she did continue to suggest it throughout that day. She filled in where my logic just was not
functioning. My primary concern at the time was honestly making sure no one
ever found out about this and wondering if he had some weird disease. When you have been a victim of this kind of
assault, there really is not much logic in play.
I felt CRAZY guilt—I should never have been at a party with
underage drinking. I should never have taken a drink. I should have listened to
the stories I’d heard through the grapevine about how aggressive this male
friend was. What if I did or said
something to him that indicated I was interested in that? And probably the scariest thought—what if I’m
pregnant or what if he had some kind of disease? That evening, my roommate’s
logic finally prevailed and she drove me to the emergency room.
As a friend of the victim, your job longer term is to be
present without being pushy. The other
great thing my roommate did was she let me proceed at my own pace in dealing
with this. She never pushed me to talk
about it but she never avoided talking about it with me.
Before my rape, I was very extroverted. Now, I am very much an introvert. Many times, when there is a death of someone,
you might struggle with what to do or what to say to the loved ones. I have heard those who have experienced a
loss say that it is most important to acknowledge the death and to not pretend
that life is the same as prior to the death.
I would say it is the exact same advice with someone who has experienced
a sexual assault. The victim is not and
cannot be the same person they were before. But I have also learned that God
can use even that awful event for good in their life and the lives of
others. It is important as friends and
family members to be present and realistic about the event and the subsequent
changes. It is equally important for you
to be a reminder—either by your presence or with your actual words—that there
can be good and happy times in that person’s future.
My main goal in writing this post is to talk directly to
other victims of assault. My story ended
well. The district attorney was not optimistic
about our odds at trial. The reality
was, my delay in going to the hospital left very little physical or blood
evidence. The likelihood that my rapist
had used a drug that induced at least partial amnesia meant that my memory
would not be a powerful tool. So,
eventually, my father opted to call my assailant on the phone and threaten
him. He basically said the guy should
steer clear of any contact with me or anyone else I was close to and if he did
not, we would be pressing charges and he could expect to spend the rest of his
life on a sex offender registry after he was assaulted himself in jail. My rapist chose to leave school the next day
and did not return to finish his degree until after I had graduated. All that to say, I had the luxury of
recovering without having to worry about seeing him around and I did not have
to go through the trauma of a trial where the defense would likely have
attacked my choices that night.
The first thing I would say to victims is, you need to get professional
help dealing with this. Whether your
assault happened 2 weeks ago or 20+years ago, you need counseling if you have
not had it. I firmly believe the only
reason I am a fully functioning adult in all areas of my life is because I had
very supportive friends and family who all encouraged me to seek professional
help. The bottom line is there is not a
person alive that you are friends with that can bear the weight of the sadness
that has come to you in this circumstance—not a roommate, not a boyfriend or
husband, or even a good female friend or sister—and you certainly cannot do it
on your own. They can help you shoulder
the pain but ultimately you are going to have to seek outside help.
I went into MAJOR denial after the rape. I finished out the semester—taking my final
exam sitting next to my rapist, before he had left our college. I went on to a successful summer internship
in Washington DC and then I started having panic attacks. If you have been raped and you have not
gotten professional help, you are NOT living the full life you could be living. Your life may be pretty and decorated with
all sorts of fancy distractions, but if you have not dealt with this
professionally, then deep down something is missing and broken and demands
attention to fix it. I promise you are
missing out on having your rape transition to become a mere footnote in your
story instead of the main attraction. If
your assault is left unaddressed, you are probably completely unable to see the
ways in which it has determined the course of your life.
At the time of my assault and in the immediate aftermath, I
honestly could not imagine a time when that one event did not shape everything
about my life and who I am. I am now a
living testimony that this really does not have to be a big part of your story IF you deal with it now—through counseling
and time. I spent HOURS dealing with how
bad it hurt and sitting with the discomfort of it all. It was not easy or fun, but it was totally
necessary. I eliminated those people who
were uncomfortable dealing with the reality of what happened to me. I got angry with God—seriously angry. I asked God the hard questions and then
waited for those answers. I said earlier
that no human being can deal with your sadness and anger over your assault, but
God actually can. That is what I
learned.
I serve a good God.
He was good before my rape; He was good during my rape; and He is good
and faithful afterwards. My heart was
not the only one broken on the night of April 19, 1997—God’s broke too. However, there is no heart-break that I
suffer that God cannot redeem IF I ALLOW HIM TO!
The story of Joseph in the Bible is one where a rather naïve
young kid, Joseph, boasts and says all kinds of arrogant stuff to his
brothers. He is then sold into slavery
where he follows all the rules, yet is still put in jail because someone lied
about him. So he goes from treasured
son, to slave, to prisoner—and all the while, God is there, good, moving in the
middle of all Joseph’s mess. Eventually,
Joseph becomes Pharaoh’s second in command and saves the entire nations of
Egypt and Israel from starvation. When
Joseph reveals himself to his brothers who have come to beg for food, he says
(in Genesis 50:20), “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for
good. He brought me to this position so
I could save the lives of many people.”
Prior to my rape, I don’t think I had ever noticed that the
translation of this story said, “He (God) brought me to this position.” Here’s my takeaway—God put Joseph in that
specific position, but God did not just whoosh him there—Joseph had a LONG and
PAINFUL road to get to the position God ultimately intended him to have. God did not want me to suffer, He did not
want me to be raped, but He allowed it to bring me into a position where I
could help others. I am uniquely
qualified to speak about this topic.
Satan would like nothing more than to have your rape alter
or distort your ability to commune with God.
He would like nothing more than to derail God’s good plan for your life
through this one event. If you will
allow God, He can take an event that Satan meant to enslave you, and redeem it
into a beautiful part of your story.
I cannot tell you why God allowed this in your life, I can
only answer that for myself. My answer
is in all honesty, at the time of my attack, I looked great on the outside, but
my inner life was not great. I was
walking pretty far from the Faith I had been raised with. My “serious” boyfriend was a jerk—someone who
would not have been in it for the long haul.
God allowed this, and in my own life it resulted in the end of that
unhealthy relationship and it led to better friendships with the girls that
stuck with me through the messy aftermath.
The outcome God intends from your story will be different
than the outcome from my story. Your
confidence should rest in the fact that we do serve a faithful God. We serve a God that can redeem this and one
who can bring purpose from this pain and one who can buy back that
destruction.
In the book of Joel, God is talking to Israel about
something bad that’s happened to them—an army of locusts has destroyed
everything. The Israelites are in a
position where they are uncertain if there is any ability to have a decent
future. In modern day terms, their world
had come crashing down—they have been laid bare. God says to them in Joel 2:25—“The LORD says,
‘I will give you back what you lost to the swarming locusts.’” He goes on to say in verse 26, “Once again
you will have all the food you want and you will praise the LORD your God, who
does these miracles for you.”
If you are still reading this, chances are you know exactly
how impossible it feels to believe that God can bring good out of even
this. I really do vividly remember how
very dark that road feels. I am here to
tell you that God will give you the strength to get through your dark
days. You will know the sufficiency of
God to daily endure this pain of your world crashing down. Regardless of how lonely and dark it is right
now, you are not alone—He is there in the middle of this circumstance, ready to
deal with all this mess! It wasn’t until
years after I graduated and years in counseling that I can look back and see
all the ways God provided for me during that time. He can do the same for you.
