Anonymous Story: I Remember. I Am Not Mixed-Up

hi. My name is Joy. Not my birth name. But the name I give myself. It’s how I reclaim me from the degradation and shame of assault and abuse. It started when I was a little girl about 7. He was my uncle. He wasn’t really a grownup at the time. One of my sisters told my mom that he had called me into his room and I went. I remember how that nasty felt, and how revulsed I became of my own body. Nasty.

In high school, I was caught by a boy from my school in the woods as I returned from a sandwich shop near the school. There one boy was the ringleader and he pushed up the other boys to participate. I don’t remember who the others were, but I remember the ringleader. I was devastated. My clothes and reputation at school were dirtied and soiled. then there was a big basketball player on the side of a hill. I guess you know that by this time my sense of self was in the toilet. All gone. I lived like and believed that my role in life was to service men. So that’s what I did. But I didn’t think that I even deserved to paid!
That I was of no worth to even live on God’s earth. I came to faith in Christ and got good professional counseling over the years.
Now I am 60 years old. There has been so much healing. I know that I am the apple of my Father’s eye. I know that he loves me. I know that not all men are evil. I know that I am precious and gifted. I know that I have a lot to offer the world. Jesus reminds me everyday. Now I really do like men. I’d like to spend these years in partnership with a loving and kind man. Sharing in the wonders of God’s world. but I’m still scared that I will not be totally safe. I tell my story now, because I’ve never told it before. I have to get it outside of me. I need that part of me to walk, even run, free.