Sharing our story! {Testimonials of women who love the Lord} || Amanda||

**Disclaimer – This post talks about trauma and abuse.  If you are sensitive to abuse and trauma stories, please do not read.   

    I just love how The Lord has worked in Amanda’s life and saved her!!! We have a choice to be saved or not and she let God have control! 

    I grew up as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  My parents were sealed, subsequently by our family, for time and all eternity when I was 15 years old.  I didn’t exactly enjoy church but the next few years would prove that having a relationship with Heavenly Father would ultimately save me. A year and a half after the sealing, I met a guy who turned my world upside down.

    At 16, almost 17 years old, I started dating a guy that I went to high school with.  The first few months of our relationship was fun.  He was respectful to my parents, made sure I got home on time, and his family was great.

   During the second half of my junior year, things slowly started to change.  He started to just chip away at my esteem.  It was small little things such as, “You are so beautiful when you wear this” and “Just stay home from school today” and slowly evolved into more depressing situations.

    He suffered from depression and was on medication and seeing a counselor for it.  Before I knew it he was manipulating me into not going to my dance classes.  Every one who knew me knew that dance was my life.  I was too close to the situation that I thought I was giving something up for someone I loved when in fact he was slowly taking away everything that was important to me.

    My parents tried to ground me after finding out that we had been having sex.  My mother forced me to Planned Parenthood to get on birth control. They took my door off my bedroom, took my lights out of my bedroom, took away my car….the entire situation on both sides was very unhealthy. They forced me to counseling sessions and my counselor betrayed his docotr/patient confidentiality by telling my parents things I had trusted him with.  I was in no danger to myself or to anyone else so there was no need to express anything I had said.

    By this point he had started suggesting that maybe my parents never really loved me.  That they just wanted to have control over me.  I believed him.  I never had the freedom I desired and was always on a tight rope.  Never got to choose where I wanted to go clothes shopping, if I could dye my hair, even to the point of what clubs I could join.  Both relationships were unhealthy but I chose to believe what he was saying.
 
    Summer of my junior year, just before senior year was about to start, I had my gallbladder taken out.  My mother purposefully kept me drugged and in bed for a week while I recovered so I wouldn’t see him.  After I got better, and senior started, things with my parents got worse.  I had quit my job, was no longer dancing, and was unhappy everywhere. My parents and I fought all the time and the manipulation continued. The fight that sticks out is when I said I was leaving. My parents said no.  I started to leave and my dad barely caught me and dragged me back in the house.  There was slapping and punching by me, my father, and my mother.  I eventually got away and called the cops.  Cops sided with neither party.

    That was the day I moved out and moved in with him.  We stayed at his mothers house and because she wouldn’t let me sleep in his room, per his request, we moved in with his dad.  His dad had the same request but was a pushover and eventually we were sleeping in the same room.

    He dropped out of school and held a job while I went to school in the morning and then online school when I could.  I did graduate school on time which was definitely a blessing.  A few months after moving in with his dad, things got worse and I thought this was the way it was meant to be.  I thought I had deserved it.

    It started slowly with him just pushing until I gave in to sex.  From there it turned into him holding a knife to me or tying me up and raping me.  I just looked the other way.  What was I suppose to do?  If I didn’t give in, he’d beat me.  The thing about his beatings – they were very calculated.  He never gave me black eyes or beat me to unconsciousness.  He’d hit me in the head but I had long hair so it was hid.  He’d hit me in the ribs.  He would hit me on my upper thighs.  All bruises were hid.

    At first the beatings would happen sporadically but eventually got to the point that if I laughed at something he did, I’d get beat or just a quick punch to the head.  At times, I thought I was going to die.  This was how it was going to end.  To this day, I know that someone was watching over me to ensure I survived. My parents still tried to get me to come home.  I even missed my grandfather’s funeral because he had hit me so hard I had the biggest bruise and knot on my arm.  A long sleeved shirt in August would have tipped them off to something going on; a short sleeved shirt would have shown everyone I was being abused.  He had broken me down so far that I didn’t trust anyone.  Not even my own family.

    At this point I had graduated high school and had a job as a hospital housekeeper. Every night before bed, I remember praying to God to help me but to not let anyone find out what was really happening.  At some point I had had an epiphany.  If I could put away a portion of my paycheck, it wouldn’t be long before I could leave and never come back.  I thought it would work.  The only problem? He waited for me at payday and made me cash the check in his presence.  I felt so defeated but I continued on, persevering.

    Now I know at this point his family knew something was going on. The problem with that?  They were so afraid of him so no one said anything.  Christmas rolled around and he proposed to me.  That was the hardest day of my life.  Saying ‘Yes’ to someone that I knew I would never marry just to keep the charade up killed me inside.  That was the day I hardened.  I’ve never been an emotional person before but after that, I knew if I was going to survive, a part of me had to die.  To this day, that part still hasn’t fully come back.  I do the best and it may seem I am cold at times but it was how I survived.

    We had been watching the Elizabeth Smart case since the beginning.  When she was found, it was my inspiration to get out of there.  I prayed and prayed to God to give me an opening to get out of there.  Then one day my prayers were answered.

    Just before my 19th birthday, while working at the hospital, I ran into my Uncle’s wife.  She worked as phlebotomist in the same hospital I worked at.  What she was doing on the fifth floor had me curious.  So I asked.  The answer I received next, I knew I had to tell her.  Every single copier in the entire hospital were out.  Except for the one I was standing next to vacuuming.  I poured my heart and soul to her on what had been taking place for the past year and a half. She immediately called my cousin to come to the hospital at 2:00 when I got off.  I poured my soul to my cousin.  We immediately left and packed her car with as much stuff as I could get in there.  His sister showed up and I told her what had been happening.  She knew, apologized, and then helped me pack the rest of my stuff.

    I left the ring and a note.  He called and called and called.  I never answered.  I knew if I did, I would more than likely be sucked into his world again.  I had angels watching over me and a Heavenly Father who kept me strong.  That was the first day I had cried in a very long time.  My cousin and grandmother were great at keeping their distance while keeping me safe.  Calls were made to my mother and father.  That day, I started to rebuild myself.

    12 years later and I still remember everything he did to me.  I did what I had to do and I got out of there and the state I was living in as fast as I could.  I needed to feel safe and safe was somewhere far away. Part of me wonders what would life be like if I hadn’t listened to that still small voice saying, “Tell her. You need to get out.” Would I still be alive?  All I know is that to have such a great prayer answered and my life spared, I don’t take what I do in life lightly.  I commit myself and I fight like hell for everything.  I faced evil and I survived but only by the grace and love of God.

    I have left out a lot of details as they are not important to the story.  More happened during those couple of years but those are things that I have only told one other person – my husband.  What had happened doesn’t define me but it definitely shaped me into who I am now.  When someone who is so inheritantly evil like that, you learn to trust your instincts and pray for direction.  I have never doubted the still small voice and pray that others can have that bestowed upon them.  Especially other women who are dealing with long term rape and abuse.

    As for my parents, they only know part of this story.  They still refer to this time as a time when “I went crazy.” Not necessarily a supportive relationship but I’ve chosen to forgive them as we all have our own coping mechanisms and I’m sure they would not be able to handle everything I went through if I told them. We don’t talk about this much anymore and I figure their transgressions are their own and will be dealt with when they meet God.  Now my grandmother knows more and is more supportive of my dealing with it.  We’ve talked in depth and there is an understanding.  She knows why I wasn’t there during my grandfather’s last days.  Do I regret that? Of course.  That man meant the world to me but I know he knows why as well and it is ok.

    Have I forgiven him? I guess so.  In the sense that God will deal with him and his choices when the time comes.  Have I forgotten?  No.  I don’t think I ever will and that isn’t a bad thing.  There may come a time in life where my experiences will be needed; wanted.  What I do know is that I thank God every day for allowing me to live.  I have had the most wonderful opportunity to marry my soul mate and to raise and teach four wonderful children.  I can’t imagine life without them.  So thank you Lord. That debt can never be repayed but I will do my best to live in your light!