Jess' Testimony

When we think about starting our lives over, after brokenness, how do we approach it? Where do we find hope from? What motivates us to take that deep breath and believe in our future again? My family's story is difficult, but far from over. I feel safe to share it in this group, and it may resonate with someone. In first grade I was exposed to porn by some boys in the woods. As a little girl, I was stunned and afraid, and suddenly very ashamed to be female. The boys did not touch me or hurt me, but I remember one sneering nastily and laughing in my face. The experience followed me through my young childhood and I found myself struggling to sexually process what had happened and what it meant to be a girl. By adolescence I had already dated a lot without sexual involvement, and definitely without sincere interest. I wanted to save sex for later, but also basically had zero respect for guys. I was quite the little feminist, with a coldly rejecting attitude to boys. Too tough for love and too "smart" to commit. (It didn't help that my older brothers bullied me). All in all, defensiveness had hardened around me against guys, although I selfishly enjoyed attention from them. (Sad to see many grown women still stuck in the exact same patterns). Once I left home, I served 4 years in the Navy, all overseas at bases in the Med and Middle East. My time for adventure and I thrived in the excitement! Guys still showed attention, but this time I usually at least felt sorry for them (I know, I was still a jerk!) and pitied them since many were so clearly homesick and lonely as young service members. It was during my time in Italy I met a guy who really wowed me and seemed to be way out of my league. He wanted to start seeing me and I was swept up in the thrill of how incredible he was! Immediately I began doing everything I could to look my absolute best and I guess "deserve" his attention. Even unhealthy eating patterns began surfacing as I tried to mold myself into a suitable match for him. His interest in my was based solely on sex appeal, and I didn't want to disappoint him by being at all ordinary. (Interestingly, I now know he never deserved such extreme efforts but at the time I was insecure and basically still a kid). It wasn't long before we were sexually involved, although I had recently recommitted myself to faith and did not want to be "in sin". A horrible cycle began for me... starving and dolling up to be sexy enough for him, trying to ignore the many ways he showed disrespect, and feeling totally lost. I was literally losing who I was as a person, and detaching from my own soul. At the age of 20, a complete deadness had settled in over me. And then, one desperate day I ran away completely. Away from Italy, away from the Navy...and away from my boyfriend. I needed help but didn't know how to reach out. The relationship had turned abusive, and like most abusers, he had successfully isolated me from any type of support. In my limited understanding of the dark situation, running away was the only option. A week later, I called back from Paris so he would know I was alive. Turns out, no one believed I would run away so my boyfriend was actually getting investigated for my disappearance (as in, murder.) What a nightmare! I had to go back to clear his name in the investigation. Ok so here's the continuation of my weird background. And please let me say, I do not hate guys or blame men in general for what took place in my life. My own naivety led me into some of the various situations, and some of the others we can chalk up to basic evil in the world. None of us get a free pass to avoid struggle and suffering. What really is in our power though, especially after sorrow, is our choice to become either hardened or softened. Ok we'll pick up where we left off... I went back to Italy, after several phone negotiations with NCIS begging to be discharged from the service. Again, in my immaturity and desperation I could not see any other options clearly. So I was still looking for escape, especially from the scary boyfriend. When I returned to Italy, I was immediately placed under arrest. Feeling betrayed and treated like a criminal, I began a 45 day sentence of restriction. As an adult I understand this was entirely appropriate since I had run away from my military command. Besides, the disappearance of a young American woman overseas quickly becomes an international incident, and a nightmare for the military and US government. So yeah it was important that disciplinary actions be taken to discourage other young service members from running off when life gets hard. All in all I agree with the punishment, and actually I probably deserved worse. The shame was difficult since I had never been in any kind of trouble before. And during the 45 days my only comfort was visits from my boyfriend. The false comfort of that further entangled me into the toxic relationship. When my disciplinary time was up, I guess he decided it was his time to punish me. On my birthday came the first terrible rape. There would be two more before I was able to escape him. What had begun as numbness over me in the relationship, as I changed to conform myself to his preferences, shifted after the rapes into total inner chaos. For 3 years after that and well after my enlistment ended, I lived in terror of men. In fact, looking back I can see how I withdrew from life during those years. I continued to travel, took interesting jobs, and went through the motions of creating a future, but was really just wandering around trying to ignore the echo of silence in my empty spirit. The terror continued, the depression, the numbing apathy, while my heart gasped for hope. And on one night suicide seemed the only thing offering relief. Anyone who may be questioning if God exists and if He can help, I can fully guarantee He does exist and He ABSOLUTELY wants to help. Eventually I made my way to college, after a lot of aimless wandering then working a few years with teens in drug rehabs. It was healing to be in helping positions with those who were also hurting. But then college was my first real attempt to make a brave new start in life. I finally got my life together enough to face going to college. And as a veteran I was eligible for education benefits, so I reported in to the VA office on campus. Little did I know how quickly my life would change after that encounter! Up to this point I had taken some years away from guys and dating, and basically just trying not to be hit by panic attacks. All in all, I wasn't looking to meet anyone, and only wanted to go for my degree. It would take a special kind of guy to get my attention after all I had suffered... and that was the kind of guy I met through the VA. He was tall, quiet, intelligent, and humble. He was a veteran like me going to school, who also worked actively in the ministry, and openly identified as a man of faith. He had a gentle, quiet confidence, and was not at all aggressive like my ex-boyfriend had been. He was 29, I was 26, and we both had been in the Navy. It came natural to share stories about various commands we had been stationed at. He was someone I felt instantly at ease with, and felt I could comfortably trust. And as time passed, before I knew it, we were in love. For some reason, everything that had happened to hurt me seemed to melt away when I was him, and I began to believe in a future again... even imagine a future with marriage. In the summer of 2002, we began planning a wedding. The thought of peacefully getting married, to my best friend, seemed like completely resetting my life after the rapes. Like starting all over! I was amazed at how incredible my life had transformed, how alive I felt, and strong! It was a beautiful summer... until we did actually marry. The wedding night was confusing, and he couldn't manage to be intimate. I knew he felt awkward so I tried to be reassuring and show love by being understanding. None of that prepared me for the next morning however. Starting the day, I wondered what was wrong when he coldly ignored me, completely shutting me out. I tried asking him about it, but felt confused when his attitude turned very rejecting. What in the world?? I was his bride! I wasn't angry as much as just baffled. It did not make sense. As time went on, the various head games persisted. It felt like the Twilight Zone... one minute he would be normal and friendly, and the next he would go off on weird demands. Like never locking the bathroom door. I remember him throwing a fit when I would lock the bathroom door, even if I was having my cycle. Other "rules" involved me not painting my toenails, or wearing sunblock, and other bizarre things he fixated on any petty little thing he could fuss about, he did. And even though he was a skilled lover, most nights I went to bed alone as he sat up on the computer. He also began saying things like, (and I quote)... "Throughout ancient history, men always preferred young boys. Women were just used for procreation." Shocking and twisted thing to say to a new bride! By 6 months into the marriage, I knew I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. I also discovered I was pregnant. I felt utterly trapped! The best way to describe the years that followed is turbulent! Through twisted confusion and berating, he attempted to conform me to be helpless, insecure, and dependant ...but something in me just couldn't conform or become broken by his games. Every time his warped power plays didn't work, he labeled me as difficult, for maintaining emotional boundaries and not falling victim to the abuse. Our home life was messed up, but I truly thought we were just troubled. I had no clear idea of how demented it actually was, when I was under his power. When it was just me and my two sons together we were so happy, singing and playing and following a simple routine of peace. But as soon as my husband would step in the door, depression would settle over the home in a cloud of chaos. I knew we had serious problems, and we attended endless therapy. But interestingly, I really didn't see things clearly as abuse though until 2 women began to help me, as they recognized right away what was playing out.This may be hard to understand but emotional abuse is very hard for the victim to become objective in, (especially with all the shaming going on, and when I felt so committed to maintaining a peaceful family for my two sons). Still, these ladies also knew that emotional abuse could easily slip into physical once control is lost, which in my case it did. When violence was introduced, and I was reduced to calling the police from a bedroom closet, the kids and I left and went into hiding. I wish I could say that day began a bright new life for us, but really the struggle continued and later erupted into a nightmare. I really don't like to talk abut it, but basically he maintained visitation rights to our children and sexual abuse soon became evident. My own sons suffered by his twisted perversion, when they were toddlers and preschoolers, while being groomed to be entangled to him in. He had found work within the police department to avoid investigation, and when the abuse surfaced and I desperately refused to allow him further access to them it was me that was almost arrested. As I type this, I can assure you that the pain of these years and pursuing their protection has been the single most devastating experience. It didn't help that I had remarried in great brokenness to a man I trusted who turned out to be lost in porn and unfaithful, which ended in another divorce. (It's hard to summarize the 2nd marriage in one pitiful sentence like that, since I totally loved him, committed to him, and still miss him.) Bad years as no one can imagine. The events were hard but a inner strength was still building, allowing sunny happiness with my children on a daily basis. One day a close friend asked me, "Jess, why aren't you on heroin??" Honestly, empty religion had lost all promise to me but in its place true faith surfaced and carried us through. God is REAL. Today we live in a new state, and my sons are 10 and 13 years old. I own a dance school, which just began its 4th season. The pure joy of being with all my little dancers is the reward of my struggle! On the side I work as a certified life coach, which is incredibly fulfilling and humbling, and makes me feel like my pain wasn't wasted if I can now reach out to others. I'm dating a great guy, and next month will be one year since we met. I don't know if we have a future, but I am definitely enjoying the day to day sense of having a normal life. 5 years ago I was diagnosed with severe chronic PTSD, and I receive help in dealing with the symptoms. All in all I think I'm handling it, although panic can rise instantly, especially if I can't find one of my kids (I was warned years ago they were at great risk of abduction because of our situation). As a footnote...It really bothers me when people lightly toss around comments about PTSD, since it is real and can be debilitating to those of us who actually have it. (Serious trauma should be respected...not treated like a hashtag). Thanks for reading my story, and for the acceptance and loving support shown. In closing, I want to share something I have prayed for many years.."Lord, I don't mind being broken as long as I come out softened, and not hardened. God bless each of you ❤