I was 13– Excited to be out late at Denny’s with my friends, talking and laughing, effervescent, carefree. He was much older, at least in his 30s, but he zeroed in on me. He leered, scruffy face so close, stinking drunk, and he loud-whispered words I’d never heard about what he wanted to do to me. He said he would make me quiver, and he did. Just not the way he meant.
I sought comfort from two women I thought would understand, but they could only see the moment through their own dark-tinted lenses. My experience wasn’t as bad as theirs had been, and they brushed it off. I was alone with fear and shame.
What’s a girl worth?
I was 15– Too young and too scared, desperate to keep my older boyfriend, reluctantly willing. He gave me a magazine as a guide, full of bodies and skin, excitement and impossibility. He wanted me to learn what to do for him. So I did. And when he used me all up, he left me to guilt and self-loathing. And I dared not seek comfort where it had not met me before.
What’s a girl worth?
I was 17– Feeling like a woman behind the wheel of my red convertible, waiting for the light to let me get to my hostess job, mature, nearly grown. He honked his horn and filled the space between his car and mine with shouts and dirty laughter: He liked how I ate my banana. I drove away stupid and small.
What’s a girl worth?
I was 31– Creating a place of laughter and heart-baring, writing good words, typing out truth. I opened up so others could too and invited conversation. He was anonymous and cowardly. He sent a message to describe how he’d defile me if he had his way. I was shaken and suspicious.
When I turned to my communities, two scoffers stood out among the supporters. Women who suggested it was my fault, expected, deserved.
What’s a girl worth?
I know the statement of my worth comes from the lips of the One who made me, but yet– but yet. When the shouts of men say You’re just a thing to fuck, when the sneers of women say Oh well– the voice of truth is hard to make out through the din.
And I need the strong voices of my brothers and the sweet singing of my sisters to raise loud the truth of our Father’s words, to remind me what a girl’s worth.
***
Have you ever struggled to believe what you’re worth when God and the world disagree?
{ 127 comments… read them below or add one }
Dear Tamara,
What a read you gave people today, this is for men too for sure and I will be sending it
out. I only wish you and other women (especially young girls) could see what you look
like in Gods eyes. I wish He would just give you a glimpse behind the curtain to see
your inestimable worth and beauty. I don’t know why these things happened to you but
I know you are using them for His glory. I am so sorry you had to hear things at such a
young age not suitable for such ears as yours. What a great message you have and how
proud Our Lord must be to see you litereally making lemonade out of lemons. I greatly
admire you and have the utmost respect for you great woman of God. I wish I could
give you a hug.
I crave those glimpses behind the curtain for me and for all of God’s precious daughters and sons. When you speak words like these to us, the curtain is lifted a little. Thank you.
Joe, on the one hand I appreciate your words, and yet on the other hand, here’s what I also read in your words. “I’m so sorry someone ELSE did those things to you.” This is the problem – we are ALL guilty of shaming, belittling and defiling each other. While you may not have done those things to Tamara, are you really going to tell me you’ve never looked at a woman and thought about what it would be like to have sex with her? And I’m not letting women off the hook either. I myself have castigated men and cast a wide net over “perpetrators”, as well as heard horrible things spoken against men by women. But that’s the problem – as long as we say “what THEY did to you” – we are not taking individual responsibility for our OWN sin and we are free to believe “I’m a great guy, and everyone else is the problem.” Do you have any idea how many “good ‘Christian’ men” have “pooh-poohed” my constant insistence that there is huge and wide discrimination in the church against women? I go to a church that consistently talks about how much “equal” authority women have in the church, and yet the lead pastor, assistant pastor and executive pastor are all men, and in two years not one single woman has ever spoken in the church. Ever. In the Wednesday night service they’ve had 20 speakers on the last 2 years, and not one of them has been a woman. Ever. And if you ask the pastors, they will go on and on and on about how much they support women, and what great champions of women’s rights they are. So, you may be a great guy – you probably are – but please don’t act like you’ve never contributed to this problem, and whoever those guys are that Tamara is talking about are he exception to the rule, not the norm. The truth is, the reality is, the perpetrators are ALL OF US, and the problem is not going to change until we “man up” and admit to how each of us – every single one of us – contribute to the problem in a thousand little ways every single day.
I was 16–I’d gone to visit my brother over the summer. We partied with his friends. I felt so cool being able to drink. He was around 30. He cornered me in the kitchen and I told him my age, thinking that would make him realize he was in the wrong. It didn’t work. My brother said I was old enough to handle myself. Later the same man stood over my bed and watched me ‘sleep.’ I curled up into the smallest ball I could hoping to disappear.
oh, kara. this is heartbreaking. i’m so sorry you experienced this…
I am so sorry that man treated you wrongly and so sorry your brother failed to protect you. I pray you know the great comfort of our perfect Brother, who showed us our worth on his cross.
Wow. So strong, and the imagery is so real. And hits hard. Reminds me of the boys/men who said that if I fucked them, they’d cure me of being gay. And for a while I believed them. And when it didn’t work, I thought I was the one in the wrong. An object to them; one to use and defile, and throw me away in my apparent brokenness.
Didn’t mean to write that in that way, but when it comes, it comes. Thanks for sharing, and thanks for bringing that out. In peace and grace, my sister.
I’m so sorry you were wounded by their selfish lies. They were wrong in so many ways. You are precious.
“what’s a girl worth” – your use of repetition is powerful and your honesty pierces my heart. we are treasure in god’s eyes but commodities to so many. oh, that girls would be kept safe until the father, who knows our worth, can hold us….
Amen, amen.
There is a great line in Calvin Miller’s beautiful poetic allegory of the life of Christ called “The Singer” where before the Christ figure died they branded the word LIAR on his forehead. After his resurrection, his other injuries were still visible, but the word was gone. When someone asked why, he answered “no man can burn a label into flesh and make it stay when heaven disagrees.” That could sum up the story of my life and the hope that we have.
There have been plenty of people, including my own parents and the people who violated me that said I was getting what I deserved and I was worthless. What an amazing gift to have Jesus call us loved and accepted and his own. There will always be the cowardly abusers and the perverse around us. But we are also surrounded by other believers who can be His hands and His heart to us. There will always be the ones we can trust to speak truth and love and healing to our weary hearts. There can be such violence in words thrown carelessly at us. There can be such healing in hearing the real truth that can set us free. Let me be one of the voices to tell you that you are greatly loved and precious.
I’ve never read that allegory, Linda, but it sounds beautiful. Especially the label disappearing.
I’m noticing that the root of every hurt we inflict on other people is an attempt to diminish their value as humans made in God’s image. I guess it should be no surprise that this would be the worst kind of hurt possible — it goes to the center of who we are. But slinging mud and branding labels doesn’t actually change or destroy the image of God in us. No matter how unrecognizable, how defiled and desecrated by human cruelty, God’s image is still there.
I love your writing, Tamara. You have a unique voice — I knew this was you writing before I clicked over from my email to see for sure. Keep writing. You have so much healing truth to share.
Thank you, dear friend. And how amazing and how true that no matter *what,* God’s image is still there.
That line is amazing– thank you. And thank you for singing sweet truth.
absolutely! i grew up fatherless but with an awesome mother who did the best she could. still- i sought out someone to make me feel valueable. for years i was used and set aside. damage done then still haunts me today even thought i married the most wonderful man that makes me feel valued and loved every single day. i needed people to speak truth then and i need it now. as a body, as the hands and feet and voice of jesus we need to speak truth- uplifting truth to one another. YOU ARE VALUED. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE LOVED. great post friend!
I’m grateful for your mother and husband, that they speak that necessary truth to you. You are valued. You are beautiful. You are loved.
Sigh. When the “you’re just a thing” message comes from men it’s expected and easier to shrug off. It’s the reinforcement from women that really cuts.
Oh, and how painful that it should ever be expected from men. And yes, how painful when women betray one another.
Thanks for sharing your experiences. It reminds me to watch my words–not only to keep from tearing someone down, but also to be intentional about speaking words of worth to other people, especially younger girls.
The world is full of people telling us–directly or indirectly–where we fall short or what we should be. No matter how old we are, we need to focus on what God says about us instead of what everyone else says about us.
The world does not define who I am. My circumstances are not an indicator of how God feels about me. My past does not have to determine my future.
And we need people around us to remind us of those things–to be louder than those other voices.
Thanks for being one of those voices.
I am not always one of those voices. This post is a lesson and reminder to me, as well. Thank you for looking to take care with your own words– I will be working mindfully along with you.
Why, Tamara, today? Why do we need to go into this space today? I just don’t think I can do it. But the answer your question is yes.
i know this feeling well. praying for you, carolyn.
Thanks, Elora. I can feel your prayer making its way from Austin to Leander right now. Knowing you are close somehow makes it teensy bit better, but I am struggling hard.
Sweet Carolyn. Maybe because today is the very day you need it. Maybe today God wants to remind you that you are precious, you are valuable, you are His.
My heart is aching for you and for other little girls who have been devalued and abused. I HATE that so often women and girls are treated as objects, as things to be used up and abused. I pray for my daughter that she’ll feel loved and valued for more than her physical beauty, that she will understand deeply how much God loves her. We are daughters of the King. Revel in your royalty and hold your head up. And learn from those who have scorned you and who didn’t value your experience as valid. I know it taught me something today.
I share that prayer for my daughters as well. And I am learning the lessons right there with you.
Your post struck a chord in me. My previous marriage was full of verbal abuse. It’s odd when you are in relationship so long that you think it’s normal to be called a f’ng c_ _ _ . My heart breaks for women who feel trapped in this sort of devaluing relationship. Thank you for your honesty.
I’m so glad that relationship is over for you and that you no longer need hear his vile lies. My heart breaks along with yours for the too-many women who remain torn down.
This really touched my heart, and it really showed me my responsibility to the young women around me. How would this story have been different if the two women you approached when 13 had responded differently? Thank you for encouraging me to be a wise and sympathetic ear. On a completely different note, this was really well written. Really. well. written.
It would have made all the difference in the world; it would have made all the difference to me.
Thank you for your kind words.
First – I adore this website. I have been enlightened, challenged, and shared both love and pain with the authors here. I know some of you, and I am infinitely enriched by my knowing of you.
Having said that, Tamara (et. al.), I just have to say: on behalf of every member of the species with a “Y” chromosome, I apologize. I may not have done anything to personally offend you, but others of my kind have. We have been jerks (or other four-letter words), insensitive, self-serving, gluttonous and we take advantage of the beauty surrounding us by being lecherous pigs.
And that’s on the good days.
We’re not all like that. We are all damaged, broken. scarred and quite honestly, we act the way we do sometimes because no one has told us OUR worth. We think our worth comes in how much we can throw our testosterone around, without care for who it hurts, or how much of a four-letter-word we come across as – because that’s what we’re told we should be like. Or that it is excusable because that’s the way we’re wired.
Thank you. For challenging men – partners, husbands, fathers, and singles alike – to be better. To live better. To lead by example better.
You’re a pearl of great worth, friend.
Thank you, Sonny. And on behalf of those of us without the Y chromosome, please forgive us when we have manipulated, cheated, and made men feel less-than all they were meant to be.
Thank you, my sweet friend. And thank you for giving me a glimpse into the wounded male heart, who hurts because he’s been hurt. You are worth so much more than hormonal capabilities– your strength has nothing to do with muscle.
Amen to what Sonny said. I apologize for all of us males and our stupid tendencies. And while I can echo the “we’re not all like that”, if I’m being completely honest, I have to admit that I could be like that and at times was like that (maybe not in the specifics, but in the generalities….)
As a shy young guy, I used to wonder why it was that so many girls/women were attracted to the “jack-holes”, and how could those guys be such jerks? Then you discover that with enough alcohol in your system, you can become just as much a jack-hole as the next guy. Self-worth? Wasn’t much of that… and when it was tied to being “better than those idiots”, whatever was left got flushed when you discovered you were one of the idiots too.
Thinking of some lyrics from a kid’s song — “Jesus loves the little children…” and “they are precious in His sight” — and I’m reminded of just how vulnerable we all are. Guys and girls alike yearn to be loved and want to love back in return, but we’re all messed up and don’t know how to do it right. The more capable we are of loving, the more susceptible we are to being hurt and wounded. That’s one of the reasons (in my opinion) that God warns us to beware of sexual sin – the wounds go a lot deeper than so many other sins and really do affect our ability to love and be loved, by God or anyone else.
Tamara – thank you for setting an example of bravery and honesty. You may not be unique in having gone through so much of the crap, but you are unique in being willing to share what you’ve gone through to help others see the Truth that can set them free.
Thank you for repeatedly proving yourself the kind of brother-in-faith a girl needs.
Mine is the opposite. Rejection, rejection, rejection. Too ugly. Too loud. Too opinionated. Too different.
And I could take it from boys. I finally met someone who “got” me and loved me for me.
But I have not dealt as well from the Church. All of those qualities that kept the guys from coming around kept me from being accepted by the Church. And being told I wasn’t good enough to serve at a church was a hell of a lot more painful than being told I wasn’t good enough to go to senior prom.
I’m learning my value, thanks to people who have been truly accepting of me, but those hurts go deep and they still affect me in ways that I don’t like to recognize. Thank you for this truth today that helped me look at some of those hurts again, because I can’t heal if I don’t see where the pain is.
“And being told I wasn’t good enough to serve at a church was a hell of a lot more painful than being told I wasn’t good enough to go to senior prom.” This slays me. I have all love for you, my friend. Any church would be made better by a moment with you in it.
This is feminism in its purest beauty, and I do believe that Jesus is the leader of this movement.
YES!!
And yes, again! AMEN.
Thank you for this achingly beautiful and also sadly painful post. On behalf of the female of the species, I offer sincere apologies for all of the undercutting, self-involved, fearful and deliberately isolating words that have stung you and left you hanging in the wind.
We are such a messy lot, we human creatures, full of such ugliness at times. And yet, and yet… if we can connect at a deep, deep level with the story of God in our scriptures (and also in the lives of others who have heard the song and joined in the chorus), that ugly can be transformed – piece by piece – to look more and more like God’s original design for us. We get to see that transformation process at work in you, Tamara, because you are brave enough to share the painful pieces here and on your own blog. Thanks for letting us have a peek – it brings encouragement and hope into our own darkness.
Thank you for being a big sister to me, for singing me truth and covering me with love.
I didn’t even see it til now. Thank you, and amen.
I second that opinion! Beautiful!
this. i was writing yesterday and i wrote the one phrase that I fear ever saying out loud- i often feel like i am good for nothing but sex. too many moments and events have shaped me and to believe that god would love someone as dirty as me is basically impossible to believe. to believe that i am clean and made new, impossible. the five year old me hides in a corner crying from the injustice. my head says i’m god’s but my heart feels dirty. how do you connect the two?
You find one trustworthy, believing friend to pray with you regularly. You memorize the words of scripture that tell you how beautiful and worthy you are. You get professional counseling, if it is needed. A spiritual director might also be helpful in your continuing transformation process, that beautiful work of the Spirit that helps us move what’s in our heads down into our guts. Praying, B, that you might experience God’s powerful cleansing and making-all-things-new love in all the pieces of you – head and heart.
I hope you will listen to dear, wise Diana. And I hope you will hear and allow yourself to believe: There is nothing dirty He cannot make clean, no one not worth redeeming. You are His beloved, exactly as you are.
powerful. letting your story go deep into me…to remind me of the potential stories of the girls that I am near everyday ( I teach high school) and the power of my words and posture.
thank you.
oh Kim. i teach high school as well and had the same reaction. so many stories around me. so much hurt. praying for your day today.
And you, too, a gift to those young ones.
So grateful you are taking care with the precious ones around you.
I grew up with similar experiences.I did and said things wanting to fit in , to be excepted. I guess I feel I have to live with my choices but I also feel my choices made me who I am good and bad.
I have gone thru many things in my marriage. Some things I wish I could forget! They have also brought me to the place I am now. A great place (not perfect by any means)! I have seen God do amazing things in my life.
Now I am just praying my children don’t have to go thru the things I did! But what if they do to get to a great place in their life?
It’s so hard, isn’t it, knowing that our children will be hurt somehow? I’m glad yours will have a mother who can meet them with empathy.
Dear Tamara,
I just want to say: Nobody deserves anything. You are a strong women which some of the male chauvinists cannot digest and some women envy. Just remain the way you want to be.
GG
This made me smile– thank you.
Thank you for sharing.
Your story makes me want to give you a big hug.
Even if covered in sewage, the Hope Diamond and the Cullinan are still worth millions. The way that careless people might treat them does not determine their value. The jeweler knows their worth.
“The jeweler knows their worth.” This caught up my heart. Thank you.
I am 53 years old and spent most of my life seeing myself through the eyes of those who used me. From the age of 12 I thought sex would bring love, even if only for a moment. I am just beginning to fathom my worth, not just through the eyes of God but through my own.
So grateful He’s giving you sight.
Like us all, your price is found in the One who is priceless. Luke 15
Love,
Beckyxx
Thank you, friend. How He seeks us, how He loves us.
Oh. My.
Sweet, Tamara…how I’ve felt these thoughts, yet lived a story different and similar all in one. A girl is worth so much, and it’s hard to believe it sometimes, I know.
But it isn’t your fault. And just because you played a role doesn’t mean that you deserve.
His Grace says “even though…I ALWAYS will…” He’ll always See you as the precious, beautiful, sweet girl He created. Heaven only knows why He allows certain circumstances. But evidence of Him is so obvious on the darkest of canvas like your stories…such beauty blooms when we reach out and ask for reminders of our worth–it’s our worship to turn toward affirmation, for our hearts know the truth.
Sweet blessings as you See the colors of His Grace sifting through the darkest of memories…
“it’s our worship to turn toward affirmation, for our hearts know the truth.” This amazes and blesses me. Thank you.
It breaks my heart that far too many women have their own similar stories. Yes, I’ve been made to feel an object. When I was 17, working at a local pharmacy, a customer in his 50s sexually harassed me. It took months before I spoke up because I rationalized that his words didn’t mean anything and that I’d probably get fired if I spoke up. But when I started to get scared that he’d be there on days I worked, I knew the job wasn’t worth it. I told my boss, absolutely stunned when he filed a restraining order on my behalf. That empowered me and yet there have still been situations in which men have belittled or tried to reduce me or didn’t view me the way I wanted them to.
It’s taken years to have a right view of myself, to fully believe that God created me fearfully and wonderfully and that this truth can’t be changed no matter what anyone else says or does. I am worthy of love and respect. Now I speak up when I’ve been wronged but I also choose to remember the good men and women in my life who also speak up on my behalf. Thank you for sharing your heart, Tamara. I’ve learned so much from you these past few months.
So glad you spoke up and that your boss responded so well. How wonderful that you’re able to fully believe the truth.
Tamara ~
I have to say I loved this post and I have to say it really choked me up. I was raised to believe I was worthless and my abusive mother never let me forget it either. My father was emotionally distant and taught me nothing about men – growing up the male species were ‘alien’ to me. I truly thought that men didn’t have feelings, that they only pretended to care about you so they could get what they really wanted … sex. And what about the men who were married?? Again I thought they only married to have children to pass on their name – thus putting up with the woman, the wife, in order to achieve this goal. My father showed me my worth be being distant and aloof.
The first relationship I was in was exciting because he showed me attention – I thought I was finally learning what men were like. But as time went on, I discovered his ‘need’ for porn. He gave me a nickname, “Hump.” How demeaning is that?? And how come I never saw it before?? I know why, because I wasn’t taught how a man should treat me – and my father should have been that teacher.
My mother always told me after I broke up with this guy because he was also having sex with other women, “No good man will ever want you now! You’re ruined!” I believed her … until God entered in and sought me out and gave me a husband who valued me for ME.
Amazing to see that God could come in even after the terrible wrongs of so many and convince your heart of the truth.
I know so many stories like this one. I have to admit that the rejections and the devaluing comments that are the hardest to take are the ones that come from people in the church. In my head, I know we’re all sinners and we all screw up, but in my heart, I know too that we are supposed to build one another up and recognize that we all have worth in God’s eyes.
Oh, the church– we should be the first in line to offer grace, yet are so often the first in line to tear down. I’m so sorry it’s been a place of hurt for you.
There’s a place in Atwood’s “Handmaid’s Tale” where says that the f-word is the only word that can be used to describe what is happening. Every other word, every other description, has lost the ability to communicate the vulgarity, the debasement, the absolute disgust of the whole thing. You have done here what few are able to, taking a hard truth and truth that rests in Truth, and have woven it in beauty, in a prose that makes you linger, until the last two lines give you a sucker punch. And it’s perfect in that way, it wrecks, it wounds, and it burns. It burns so that the chaff will clear and the work, the rebuilding, the healing, can begin.
Love you, friend.
preston, you said what i’ve been trying to articulate all day. thank you.
Your words are always too gracious. Thank you, dear one.
I’m stone-cold floored by this.
As a member of the opposite gender, I, too, apologize for the objectification that takes place day in and day out.
All I would add is that women are not alone in the struggle for worth and identity in this crazy, fallen world. I can identify with that part of your story–of being rejected, being asked “what the hell’s wrong with you?” Being made to feel like I wasn’t worth his (dad’s) time or breath. So, in a way, I know.
We must surround ourselves with safe people–people who let us be us, and affirm our worth anyway.
Thank you, friend. Glad to be one who can surround you with truth. You are worth much.
Tamara–I can’t thank you enough for baring this piece of your soul. I need to be a better friend, mentor and support system to women and girls all around me; I needed this reminder today. The world has really fed women a pack of lies about their self-worth, and you showed us why we are all in need of a Savior. Lord, help me to be a continual source of strength for my sisters, and to never tear them down.
Thanks again, Tamara. Beautifully written.
–JM
http://femmefuel.com/
Thank you. And to your prayer, amen.
What a beautiful and inspirational thing to read, the comments and stories of women who are so bold to share their story. Thank you, Tamara, for this gut-wrenching depiction of what so many others suffer from. We are worth so much more. I thank God that women like you write so fearlessly.
I don’t know that I write fearlessly, but I’m honored to write all the same because He is faithful to use it for good.
I think you write fearlessly…love your heart with the way you touch other people… Keep it up.
So powerful.
Thank you.
tamara, where are those women who condemned you now? probably dodging every mirror they pass.
to all the women here who identify with tamara’s words (which is probably most of us on some level), the next time you look in a mirror, raise your chin. you are worthy.
One of them immediately came to me with humble apology– a true sister, making things right. The other may require a stretching of my grace limit for a long, long time.
Few clear boundaries. “Taught” (used for pleasure) by those older. By the time I was a teen, a part of me deep down believed I had nothing but sex to offer a woman for love and if I failed to please I would be discarded. It took years and a loving and patient (third) wife to break those chains though the fear still sometimes rears its ugly head.
Of course, when you’re a guy you absorb that sexual experiences with older women are things to be celebrated. So it’s hard to even admit to yourself that might not be true.
Peace.
This is bravery, my friend. How painful the experience, and how much harder when it’s not a problem you’re “supposed” to have. The same way women are all the more wounded in their struggle against porn when the message is it’s a man’s problem. Thank you for speaking up in truth.
Im pretty sure “fuck” is foul language as you say in your about us page…
You’re totally right. I need to remove that part in the About Us section. Thanks for the reminder!
Thank you, friend, for allowing me to use exactly the right word.
This is why I have such a hard time trusting men, why crude jokes aren’t funny to me, why I almost always assume a man’s statement has some sexual innuendo.
I was 12…the new girl, transplanted from the east coast to the west, big hair and ugly glasses. It was English class and our assigned seats had me surrounded by the “popular” guys. Every day for a year they’d say stupid stuff, tease me…but the ring-leader he’d go farther. The other four would stop…know they were crossing lines, but this kid kept going. He’d tell me how dirty I was and went on from there…I don’t remember everything just that I felt small and dirty.
One day, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned around slammed my hands on his desk and yelled in his face. And, of course, I got in trouble. The teacher never asked what happened.
I never told anyone…not even my parents. I didn’t think they’d believe me.
I’m so sorry your teacher was wrong, so sorry those boys were so terrible. You may not have been able to tell your parents, but I’m glad you’ve told us here– isn’t truth better than silence?
Oh my gosh, my life just flashed before my eyes and my skin tempts crawling off my body in remembrance. I think I need to write about it.
And while that filthy word all by itself makes me recoil…it is the only word that reflects fully what it does to a woman’s soul. Thank you for being so real.
I believe in using the best word, even when it’s not the loveliest. I hope you will use your words to write out your story and that it will be healing.
All I can say is… thank you.
You are very welcome.
Tamara:
Such a beautiful piece to show such ugliness. I recently wrote something that was really hard. A singular incident — (I think you saw it) — but there were others. And now that I am blogging, I get the same kind of SPAM. Strangers offering “services.” Friends telling me that I deserve it because I “put myself out there.” Well, I guess I have to agree with them. I have made a decision to live a life where I run with the big dogs. And sometimes that means little dogs get scratched. I would rather run than sit on the porch and do nothing, like that old adage goes. That said, it is always shocking to me when someone hurts another person with intention. Thank you for that beautiful piece.
You deserve respect, period. Love you, friend.
Dear Tamara,
Your words pierce my heart and reverberate through my soul. I wish I could have been there to comfort and remind the young Tamara of her deep value, as I wish I could have been comforted. Instead I reach to comfort the girls in women’s bodies struggling with guilt, shame and pain that does not belong to them. The pain we have suffered leaves us sensitive to pain in others, and God gives comfort to share, arms to hold and hearts to love. Praying for you.
Thank you for the prayer.
I am deeply grateful that there are people like you who serve women in that way. It is much needed.
Wow. More poetry. Painful poetry.
I have a lot to say. Similar but different. Women stood up for me. On another occasion my brother did. Then two guys from residence defended me.
You’re strong. And amazing.
I’m so glad you were defended; sad that there was need. Thank you for always building me up. You’re one of the really good women.
I struggle much with reconciling the “never-quite-good-enough” messages I’ve heard all my life–from my dad, from boyfriends, from my ex-husband–with what I know is God’s truth. Those words (“stupid”, “worthless”, “you’re not good enough to deserve a GODLY guy like that”, “why can’t you be more like [1st wife's name]?”, and so much more) cut deep and burned permanent tattoos of condemnation on my heart.
I’m 47 now. I still battle at times with the echoes of those words.
But. I sat last night in a room filled with members of my small group and listened as we went around the circle and spoke of each person’s character and how they reflect God’s love to others. And sobbed as each person told me (supposedly-worthless ME) how they saw God working in my life and pouring himself onto others through me. GOD. In ME. That’s not “worthless”. That’s not “not good enough”. He loves me…and he knew how I needed to hear it last night. He is fighting for me. This girl IS worth it.
I am so happy to hear how well your group sees and loves you. Awesome.
Wow, this post brings back a memory I haven’t thought about in years, about the one time I was propositioned (he was holding actual cash in his hand, ew) while walking down the sidewalk in my busy downtown.
Just thinking about it brings waves of nausea.
This is not a fun issue to talk about, but I think it’s so important to discuss all the same. Thanks for sharing a tough story.
And what is wrong with the haters? I don’t understand what’s not to get here.
If only he knew how little that money was worth. Thank you for the encouragement to keep digging in to the tough stuff.
So many of us have there. Why is so often viewed as the victim’s fault? For me it started when I was 4 and went on until a rape in college. When I finally asked for prayers at church to deal with the crushing shame, guilt, and fear, they asked God to forgive my sins. My sins! My sins? What had I done but been a child who was abused, who became a teenager who was abused, who became and adult who was abused?
We who survived MUST talk, share and MUST, MUST, MUST believe!
Blessings to you for doing just that!
I completely agree with you– I think silence can be deadly. I want to speak life.
Thank you for this. I can’t even begin to tell you how powerful your words were for me. I really can barely think of anything to say….. I just, really, spent my life experiencing similar events, my family brushed it off, my mother told me I could handle it, after all similar things happened to her and she ‘made it through’. My dad was always gone, he was Air Force, I felt too dumb to tell him half the things that happened anyway. if my mom responded with a shrug of her shoulders, then wouldn’t he do the same? He died at a young age, it sorta haunts me a bit, wondering what he would say if I could tell him now. He changed a lot before he died and while he had always been a Christian, I think for the first time in his life he found what it was to be rescued by Christ and loved by his Heavenly Father (even then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him). Anyway, I had something happen a few years ago and when I went to talk to my pastor about it (something I NEVER did nor did I think I would ever do, I just really thought I could trust this pastor and I was in a great deal of pain and anxious about everything) he told me it sounded as though I was receiving God’s judgement. I wonder to this day if that pastor realizes the raw pain he inflicted on my heart? I also wonder how many other young women he has told that to since. Long story short, since then I’ve married a really wonderful guy, been ‘adopted’ into a great family, my husbands family
but the pain of what that pastor said still haunts me, the things that happened in my past (some my fault, some and probably most were not, I was just made to feel that they were). While my husband encourages me, his mother and father encourage me, I still hurt. Your writing brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for writing this. I know there are other little girl hearts out there who have been broken so badly, satan just likes to try and keep me in a place where I believe it only happened to me, in that place he can remind me that there is something deeply wrong with me for others to do the things they did. God is still good though. He’s working to heal my heart, its just taking time….
Anyway, thanks for this
That feeling of being alone can threaten us into silence and, as you pointed out, make us feel defective. It’s so important to let each other know we’re not alone.
You cast your pearls before a swine… Try not to give that man any more power over your heart just because he has the title ‘pastor’. I pray that you can keep your focus on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy” not the bull that he was talking that day!
I’m doing my utmost not to cry. Thank you for this.
I’ve just started writing my stories these past few months…about being sexually assaulted in college (http://stitchinguptheseams.wordpress.com/2011/05/26/sculpture/) and how mentors and friends responded (http://stitchinguptheseams.wordpress.com/2011/05/26/o-god-the-aftermath/), along with my fear in continuing my story because its climax is me sleeping with my husband before we were married and getting kicked out of our extreme fundamentalist college (http://stitchinguptheseams.wordpress.com/2011/08/11/confessing-my-hesitancy/) and my sudden realization that “it could have been worse” is demoralizing and ugly and not Christian at all (http://stitchinguptheseams.wordpress.com/2011/08/18/my-pain-doesnt-invalidate-yours/).
Despite all of this writing, this sharing, and even healing words and friendships from people I’ve never known…I still often wonder if my worth is found in my sexuality and if there’s anything but shame there.
But this…I can add this to my healing. Understanding that I’m not alone. None of us are alone. And we are infinitely full of worth…even when we don’t feel like it.
Thank you.
I am so blessed that you can add this to your healing. Please keep telling your stories.
i have nothing to say that hasn’t already been said. which is good, because i can barely see the screen through the tears on my face. thank you for echoing so many of the songs in my heart, and for putting them into words so beautifully. God was glorified through this art work.
I’m humbled. Thank you.
First time linking from JOy…Oh why…why do women wound women…we should be sisters…standing arm and arm…supporting each other as we limp through this life. I am sorry for ugly words of men…but how much more hurtful to have sisters pour salt into those wounds…so sorry…may God’s words of love and words of others sing over you…bathing you in His healing balm.
I love this quote,”There is death and life in the power of the tongue: it’s either healing or killing-and antidote or a poison…depending on its use.”
May His Healing…antidote words be yours today…
Blessings~
Trying to comment on this blog post is like trying to review a book that was just so mindblowingly amazing–>I can’t find ANY words to say. And, on top of that, all the comments have been even more enriching and encouraging…any words that *do* come to mind seem so trite.
But, I did want to say that this post is beautiful and moving. I thank God for protecting and saving me.
Thanking God along with you.
powerful.
I was 13 – I thought the blade across my wrist was the punishment I needed for being so worthless. A struggle that didn’t go away for years. It only steals from you – your character, your friendships, your relationship with God. I’m walking free now – it’s been five years since metal touched flesh and I’m incredibly grateful for the breakthrough and for the mercy that God shows us. I am reminded every day of the importance of finding our worth in God – in Jesus and the cross. He took our sin and our shame. He gave us freedom! He gave us life! He gave us worth! He gave us the space to come before the throne of grace with no hesitation. Thanks for this post – I’m encouraged by your honesty and willingness to share things like this in such a raw way. Trusting God’s continuous unveiling of His will in your life.
excellent fearless post, this is the spirit i love, real bravery. these possessed people who acted without moral toward you set the example of this very cause & effect there before you within their actions, they will always be here and it seems to me that as a result the human worry has become the fear for each of their victim’s possible inability to overcome such torments from these heartless people?(mediums of vice) & therefore in effect, therein becoming of a similar state of mind, but be cautious of the mind of reason, or anything else which may have a hand in inducing &/or supporting fear, because the Higher fear or worry i feel i need to say – is worry & fear itself, as there is nothing(at all!) to worry or fear when you truly walk with the Light. God bless you for being fearless & touching so many with these brave words of yours.
Great post! I think we’ve got a lot to answer for in raising quiet, polite, “good” girls who don’t feel they can clearly say ‘no’ and fight back/ run away and don’t necessarily recognise when their boundaries are being crossed. I think we need to raise girls with the view that their feelings and wishes are important! And with tools to enforce/ negotiate/ deal with people and situations that might make us feel icky/awful.
Dear Tamara, your words make me ache for the shame so many women have experienced, but they ring true and clear. Thank you for speaking out on this, it’s powerful and unforgettable.
“no man can burn a label into flesh and make it stay when heaven disagrees.”
You have so much healing truth to share.
You’re a pearl of great worth, friend.
Tamara – thank you for setting an example of bravery and honesty.
The pain we have suffered leaves us sensitive to pain in others, and God gives comfort to share, arms to hold and hearts to love.
God was glorified through this art work.
From a couple of songs that come to mind:
“He makes all things Glorious. And I am His. What does that make me?”
“You are sacred, you are precious, you are His”
You are fabulous Tamara, good and faithful servant.
Love, Mum
Although I know Christ. I have not yet found my worth. My head knows all the verses and knowledge. My heart refuses the information. I find my worth only in what I produce and my beauty is absent as a result of my weight. I have no problem believing other women/people are worth infinitely more than they can imagine however I can not own that for myself. This is destroying a marriage already beyond the brink. I live life in the margins of other people’s existence. Oh to feel the truth and own it. To no longer vacillate and to instead stand firm. I cannot find my way.
I’ve struggled with this question as long as I can remember. I’ve never accepted my worth, but I’m on that journey now. Determined to see me as He sees me, not by how the world views me.
thank you…
I was too young to remember when it started, but my sister told me she remembers catching him doing things to me when I was in diapers. She was too afraid to say anything. He was a family member and he would continue to molest me till I was 16, and try once more when I was 25. As a child knowing something wasn’t right I tried revealing the shame of what was happeneing to me, but I was told that he was sorry and it wouldn’t happen again. Night after night I would contiplate suicide to escape what would sneak into my bedroom. My sister and I would make traps to keep him away, but it didn’t always work. I remember being 12 and so ecited for my first dance. I had my outfit laid out and I was sure I would look pretty for once. That night he decided to visit me in my sleep. The next day I put on my outfit and cried. I felt ugly, dirty, ashamed, embarassed, like a woman in a little girls body. I wanted so badly to be protected and safe. When I was 14 I was told I was being molested because my close were too small. Now I am 34 with 3 boys of my own. I sleep with a light on and refuse to sleep near a door. People tell me I’m beautiful, but I can’t see it. All I see is a little girl who is helpless and ashamed still. I am independent and own my own home, I pay my bills with no man to help me, I raise my sons single handedly and soon I will open my own business. Depite my successes I don’t feel good enough and I battle everyday with my mind and memories. I pray and seek God for strength to get through another day.
Thank you very much for writing this. I have struggled greatly with the issue of finding my worth in Jesus and being sinned against by men.
A man from my church tried to rape me when I was just 11. I managed to get away by biting his face until he let me go. I was so ashamed and I told noone. My father also drank heavily and was verbally abusive calling me a slut and a whore. He told me I was stupid and ugly and he wished I was dead. This wasn’t all the time and when he was sober he would treat me well. I felt confused and empty much of the time and I blamed myself for his abuse thinking I just needed to be better.
I’m now 30 and have many friend and am generally a happy-go-lucky sort. I recently tried to talk about some of these hurts with some women from my church. They responded by talking about other things and changing the conversation. I really needed a sister that would be able to pray with me. I can understand your pain when people you trust are unwilling to share the burden. I know that God is my rock and fortress and I’m so thankful to him for his care if me. God bless you x
Tamara,
I don’t care what you said, or what you did, that man had absolutely no right (NO RIGHT!) to say filthy things to you. The women who say that you deserved it are probably bitter and angry and have no room for Christ-like compassion. I may not know you, but please know that there are women in this world who know that a lady can be dressed as modestly as possible, unassuming as possible and still receive that kind of negative attention. I may not know you, but know that I stand beside you against the things people say.
yes. i have indeed struggled.
Tamara, this is amazing. this just touched me so much i was moved to tears. thank you for the courage to write and share.