Upon graduation, I got a job at a fast food place and rented a room from a family friend. I spent most of the next year working, and living in a dream world. I thought if I could only find my Prince Charming, then life would be wonderful.
At nineteen, I met the man that I was to have my first significant relationship with. Craving unconditional love, I ignored all the warning signs. He was controlling, angry and cheated on me, and I chose to remain in the dark. In the beginning, he was so nice and caring. He made me feel special and wanted like never before. I wanted to be in a relationship so badly that I turned a blind eye to anything that I didn’t want to see. We were both so young and in so much pain that we couldn’t love each other. We didn’t even know how to love ourselves. Honestly we brought out the worst in each other. We lived together for around three years and then we decided to live apart for a time and continued to date. Gail (my Foster Sister) and I had recently been reunited so we decided to get an apartment together.
On July Fourth, my boyfriend and I had decided to go and see fireworks. It began to rain early in the day so he called me and said that he wanted to cancel our date. I insisted that we still get together, so he picked me up and we drove over to his mother’s house. After a time, I noticed he had been gone for a while, and his mother seemed to be acting a little strange. I went to search for him and found him on the phone trying to cancel a date with another woman. I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was cheating on me anymore. Eventually, we decided that we shouldn’t see each other anymore.
After this, I chose to become extremely self-destructive. I became extremely promiscuous and did anything I could to get a man’s, any man’s, attention. I checked out and stopped caring about anyone but myself. I became a loser magnet. Any man who was within a ten mile radius of me who would abuse me was the man I would fall completely in love with and then cry “poor me” when the inevitable abuse began. I decided I wasn’t worthy to be loved or worth waiting for and I had sex with anyone who would give me the opportunity. I self-medicated with alcohol and drugs, and stopped taking care of myself at all. I rarely had to pay for the drinks or the drugs; there was always a man more than willing to get me drunk or stoned. The price was my dignity most of the time. Of course, this was just another way for me to try and kill myself.
I’m so grateful that God refused to let go of me! How about you? What past guilt are you trying to let go of?
Please feel free to share.