Sexual assault leaves permanent wounds, not only in our bodies and spirits, but also in our minds. I know this all too well. For years, I carried deep shame, placing the blame on myself for the harm that was done to me as a child. As a teenager and into adulthood, I struggled with eating disorders, depression, anxiety, low self-worth, and the lingering effects of trauma…the list felt endless.
Eventually, I reached a breaking point that led to my first psychiatric hospitalization. Looking back, I see how profoundly unfair it was that I was the one suffering, dying inside each day, while the person who hurt me lived freely, without accountability or remorse. That experience left its own scars, and I still carry the trauma of being in that county psychiatric hospital, where I felt stripped of my humanity. There was no compassion on those cold floors, and no sense of healing, only survival.
My childhood, my innocence, were both taken from me. And in my silence, I lived in survival mode for years, until I simply couldn’t anymore. I didn’t think I would make it past 26. I didn’t believe I would be able to raise my son, let alone experience joy in life with him. I became lost within myself, sinking deeper with each passing year. It wasn’t just the abuse, it was a lifetime of pain I carried alone, without seeking help, watching my dreams fade before my eyes, and yet, even in the middle of that storm, something sacred happened…
I remember one night, vividly, on another cold hospital floor, when God met me right where I was. My pain was not too much for Him. My Yeshua, my Redeemer, spoke life into me and reminded me that I am His. Did I heal instantly? No, and I tried every possible mental illness medication. See, it was not that God couldn’t heal me, but He was teaching me, counseling me, shaping me, and showing me how to trust Him. “My grace is sufficient, for My power is perfected even in your weakness”.
Today, when I look back, I know this: through every painful moment as a child, as a teenager, as an adult, and through every breakdown, I was never alone. This is my lifelong journey, and I get to learn something new every day. This illness, and struggle humbles me, but it does not mean I get to just give up and not do my part in managing my symptoms. It takes discipline and lots of self-love, and acceptance.
Does God want me to suffer? No. We live in a fallen world where people make the choice to hurt others. But God did not create me to remain a victim. Even in my brokenness, He called me to rise more than a conqueror through Jesus Christ.
Today, I am still healing. I still wake up from night terrors. However, I am not my trauma. I am not my past. I am not my mental illness. I am not just a sexual assault survivor.
I am not alone.
I dedicate this to all the children, men, and women who have been victims of sexual assault. Your story is far from over, and even in the middle of your pain, please know that you are not alone, and the God that I serve can turn your life into a whole, and purposeful one too. Mental health struggles because of sexual assault are real, and you deserve all the care it requires.
Your story matters, and even in the middle of your pain, you are a beautiful treasure.
