Amazing Grace, My Story

 

 

     To begin, I was sexually molested as a young child. I was never able to tell my

family; it was done by the teenage son of a friend of the family. This led to me acting out as the years progressed. First it started with me just refusing to work in school despite the school doing their best to help me. Even though I was not doing the work,I was still acing every test and receiving all my participation points for class. I was even tutoring other kids in classes that I was failing. The teachers could not bring themselves to actually fail me so they would just pass me with C’s. It was about this time that I began stealing cigarettes and beer from my dad. By the time I was in middle school I was a mess, and I was no longer living at home. I had basically given into the lifestyle.

 

     As a child, my acting out was the only way I knew how to ask for help. That plea went unanswered for six years. By the time I was thirteen, I was living in a two bedroom trailer with two grown men. I was doing the best I could to survive. I was already doing drugs to try to escape the emotions that I could not even name. At the suggestion of these men, I became sexually active and I was encouraged in this area by the older people I was surrounded with. The few times that the law caught up with me I would beg and plead not to go back to my parent’s house. The police knew where I lived, who I was, and that I needed help in some way, but they did not have the resources or the rights to help me. Every time I was found I was immediately given back to my parents; which was the last place that I wanted to go.  

 

    I tried my best to reach out to anybody who would hear me. I was sent to an institution twice. The first time I was sent, I was fourteen and I was there for two and a half years. I was out for about six months and then I did another year at the same program. I was at this program for my entire high school career. I was told by the counselors that I was at fault for everything that had happened to me and that it really wasn’t abuse. I was told that I was the problem and that all the problems my family had were stemming from me. I did the only thing that I knew would help me to escape the pain of disappointment and failure. I turned back to drugs and the industry.

 

     I became addicted to the lifestyle after I got off drugs and traded an addiction to cocaine to an addiction to material things that could not be gained by the means of a normal 9-5. I had been reaching out to everyone around me, but I had slipped through every crack. I had issues with depression, post traumatic stress disorder, nightmares,paranoia, drug dependency, co-dependency, low self esteem, trust issues, poor social skills, and a general loss of my childhood. I did my best to survive with the tools I had.

 

     After I had my son I did well for a while. The restaurant I worked for closed, I collected unemployment as long as I could. Eventually there was no other way to take care of my family, but to go back to the industry. I worked alone for a while. One day I got a phone call to work in Atlanta. I was lied to by a pimp and his girl in order to get me on the plane. At the time, I didn't know he was a pimp. I didn't know what was really going on until I was a thousand miles from my parents. After a few months of me not complying with him and not submitting to his authority, he left me with no money, no phone, and no way to survive.

 

     Out of desperation, I got in touch with another pimp just to get back on my feet. He brought me to Dallas, and I worked for him for two weeks and then left. I had a phone and a hotel room. No money, no food, and no ID to get a job. Nothing. I had to start all over again. I knew of another pimp who had a good reputation for keeping his word. I decided to be with him out of the need to survive. With him, I was able to get a house, a car, and my son back. I thought everything was going well, but then CPS tried to take my son away and I was hospitalized for three months. My pimp came to the hospital and took me out because I had told him that I was going to quit.

 

     Two weeks later his other girl was arrested. I was with her and I was also arrested. I spent four and a half months in jail; during

that time I reconciled with Christ. I was brought to a point of submission with the only person who could do anything for me. God spoke to my parents and they bonded me out. I came out to Embassy of Hope, where I proactively worked with the staff in my

recovery. I started to understand the victimization of my childhood. I began to see how it was affecting me as a woman and as a mother. I went back to school, and I began attending weekly bible studies. I got an ID, and documentation of who I am.

 

     Through the interactions of my Embassy of Hope family, I began to see what loving support really looks like. Now I am still in school, and happily married. I am about to bring my son out there to be with my husband and I. My husband is a man that God prepared for me. He is strong enough and patient enough to deal with my emotions and my withdrawing tendencies. My case is finally over. I am free from my past and have nowhere to look but my future. Grace from our Father has fallen over me and I am living my life asbest I can to bring Him the Glory.

 

-MH

Embassy of Hope©

501(c)3 Non-Profit Organizaion

P. O. Box 700022

San Antonio, TX 78270

210-305-5155

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