Guest post by Summer Alexander
I was fifteen years old the first time he showed me who he really was. He forcefully grabbed my wrist and berated me for not returning his phone calls. This was at a time when it wasn’t commonplace for everyone over the age of 8 years old to have a cell phone.
He did not believe me when I tried to explain that I had been away from home all day and had no idea he’d phoned. He called me a liar and stormed away, leaving my wrist red and throbbing. Before I could process what had just happened he was back at my door with a tearful and heartfelt apology. I was not moved. I refused to accept the apology and told him I never wanted to see him again. But he was crafty. For the first time in our short dating experience he told me he loved me (three words I yearned for), and my fate was sealed.
Our relationship grew progressively worse as wrist-grabbing turned to shoving and shoving to punching and punching to full-fledged beatings. A few years and two children later I felt both helpless and worthless. He accused me of cheating every time I so much as went to the grocery store, and he followed up those accusations by “teaching me a lesson”. To avoid his wrath I completely isolated myself from the outside world, including friends and family.
With no one left to turn to, I reached out for God. It was not easy for me to call on Him because my voice had been muffled for so long, so I opted to write to him instead. I wrote my frustrations, my hurt, my embarrassment, my sadness, my disappointments, and mostly my anger. I wanted to know why He had allowed me to stay in this situation for so long.
Looking back I can see how God answered each and every question, thought, and prayer I shared with him during those times. I later learned that in every experience, no matter how difficult, there is a lesson to be learned. Begging God to fix him was never my place; allowing God to fix me always was. I learned it was never a matter of me making a decision to stay or leave; it was always about me loving myself the way God loves me because with that love, pain has no choice but to go.
When it comes to abuse, not everyone makes it out okay. Some perish, others repeat the cycle, and many more pass the abusive mindset on to their children. I am thankful every day that God heard me even when I did not have the voice to speak out loud. Today I share my story with anyone willing to listen because I know that through my story others can also find their voice.
If your voice is stifled – write.
If you struggle to find the right words – write.
When you feel hopeless, unworthy, angry, or sad – write.
Take it from someone who suffered in despair until writing saved her life.
Summer is the owner of the award winning Summer Alexander Research organization. Her market research firm specializes in helping entrepreneurs throughout the United States launch and grow their businesses. Learn more about Summer at http://www.summeralexanderresearch.com.