Carol’s Story

As a child of 6 or 7, my father would visit me at night at least once a week, or so it seemed, may have been more or less. As a child at this age, times and dates mostly ran together. I can recall the events. Some nights I would lay awake in bed and hope he would just forget about me and not come in, and then there were days when I wanted him to come in, because, as a child, I craved the attention it gave me. But I was always glad when he didn't and very regretful when he did. Some nights I would try to be powerful and fight back. Nothing changed. He would always say that he loved me when he was finished and so I grew up thinking love and sex went together.

My parents divorced when I was 12/13, and we moved from Harrison to Springdale. My aunt and uncle let us move in with them until my mom could afford our own place. While in this home, my uncle raped me. So here again I'm pushed into sex that I didn't ask for, nor at this age did I want. It's the story of my life or so it seemed.

In elementary school, while my parents were still together, a couple of boys would touch me and have me spread my legs so they could use their imagination, and they would always smirk. My father would end up raping my cousin with me listening to her cry for her mom. I grew up scared all the time. My father would take me to eat by myself, and he would try to make moves on me in the car. I have anxiety and panic attacks mostly when traveling. I wanted the sex to ease the panic and anxiety, to keep myself busy, and lessen the attacks.

Through my teenage years, I had sex with 99% of the guys I knew. I thought sex was love, and that if you had sex with someone then it meant that you loved them and that's what I craved. Sex became my drug of choice, and I used it as often as possible as a teenager. I would tell my mom what happened with my dad, and she would say, “No man will ever love you now.” And then later once I had married she would tell me things my father had said to her when I was born, and I couldn't justify why she would stay with him, knowing what he said.

But I did find love. I married a good man and had 3 children. In 1985, I received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. Years passed. I only read the word when I felt panic, but never really studied it. And if I'm being honest, that was the only reason I read it, the comfort and peace of mind it gave me. Still I craved the attention from others that sex would give me, so I separated from my husband in 1999 and went looking for it. It would be years later that I would come to understand what it truly means to be saved.

I now know that what I was looking for in those relationships, I had it all along. Jesus was the man that I needed and nothing else would work. Nothing else would satisfy. He was the piece I was missing. Looking back, I can see Him helping me survive, keeping me from harm and danger, because most of the men I saw after my separation came from the internet. I just simply didn't care as long as I got what I wanted. What I really needed, was Jesus.

I'm still not a perfect Christian, I still fall, but I know that no matter what, if I hang on to Him, He will always save me and love me. His word says He will never leave me nor forsake me. I am still learning to let Him help me. He is all I really need. It's been a journey of forgiveness and letting go. Sometimes I hear testimonies and feel that mine isn't such a big deal compared to others, but I know each experience and each person handles things differently. What might not seem extreme to one is very much so to another, we all feel differently. I try to follow Jesus every day and I still fall short. I'm a work in progress and I love Him. I thank Him for saving my life and for the lessons I have learned, mostly the hard way. I have been known to be a little stubborn.

He is my rock. I stand with the truth.