The Broken Pieces

The Broken Pieces

When I was a child a lot of terrible things happened to me, and I begin to act differently as I grew into a teenager I developed certain cravings that the average teenager shouldn’t even have thoughts of. I never acted out on most of the thoughts that ran passed the corners of my mind, but the ones that did step into my reality really took me by surprised.

I never thought about seeking help until I was around thirteen years old, and when I mentioned it to my mother she was not in the mood to be bothered of what I was going through in that moment; so I kept acting out because I was hurting so I ran into the arms of a boy that stayed down stairs I was fourteen years old, and he was nineteen years old. It started out as a crush, and I knew that by me being a P.K that I was not allow to spend alone time with him especially with him being in such close proximity to where I seek. I knew my mother would have her eyes glued to me at all time.


So I decided to place a plan in action. I thought about how I would be able to still spend time with him, and how to also get my mother’s approval of it at the same time. So I invited him to church one night, and it wasn’t just to any kind of church service my mother was running a revival, and I knew that she could not totally keep her eyes solely on me. So as me, my mom, and my older brother got in the car a voice shouted wait for me. It was the boy from down stairs, and my mom had no idea that he was even going to church.

As we drove off my mom was just looking my way with the look of madness on her face like little girl if only you could read my thought right now. I was not that concerned about it because I knew she has to keep her spirit pure before God especially even the fact that she was about to preach was the focal point of her not going smooth upside my head in the car.


The thing about being fourteen years old, and boy crazy was not where I was at i was feeding a deposited soul tie that I was not currently aware of at this age. I was starving for sexual attention, and I know that I still had to remain the innocent church girl in certain people’s eyes; so that nothing would appear differently to anyone that was close to me, or even worse close to my mother.

I had to learn at a very young age that if i was not suppose to be a certain way in life then i had to keep certain things about myself a secret, and I had to reframe from indulging in the act of sexual sin in front of the wrong crowd; so what I was, and what I mimicked as a front was on a whole nother level of cover-up. I would go to school, and sometimes I would play the angel in middle school, and when I got home I would be normal me. The girl that would want to just sexually express herself with the boy downstairs.


There was no reason behind the same that I felt other than the sexual abuse that I faced as a child, and the things that I was forced to do at the age of ten years old. I still can remember being under the cover sucking on the penis of my abuser while my family was in the same room enjoyinh television like everything was normal; because they did not know what was going on. My abuser would hide me from my mother, and would lie to her as if I was playing outside when she was ask if he’d seen me.

I have grown so tired over the years just reliving out what bruised me so badly in life. i mean i remember having trust issues at the age of eleven years of age, and I remember feeling so distant from everyone after the night I got raped. I felt like nothing was personal anymore, and I felt like I was the reoccurring target that did not have no escape plan to run to. There was no sheild that could defend me, and I felt so lost, and alone. I just wanted to be barried alive, but every time I got the courage to do something, and or say something my abuser would remind me of the consequences of what would happen to me if I uttered a world to anyone.


Have you ever felt so alone in a place where even God couldn’t step into? Jereè – Founder of Mend The Vow 

I was there, and sometimes when i reenter this place I often have to shake myself out of it, because it’s easy to get lost here. Feeling like I am dying on the inside all over again. The betrayal of my heart it can not seem to scape the lonely nights, and the pain of my tears I had to endure from the countless unwanted touches laid on my body by the hands of my abuser.i remember at times I was so broken in my spirit to where I was just close my eyes, and pretended that I was dead that is how I got through the torment of the sexual abuse, and most of the time I would just mentally go on a vacation, and i would return to my thoughts when it was over.


No one could ever understand the deepness of the pain that sexual abuse is on a child turned teenager, and now processing all of this built up pain as an adult. Always woundered to myself! Would I ever get passed this pain in my heart? I never knew the world was this cold until I experienced pain at such an early age in my life. There is nothing like shedding tears behind something that traumatized you as a child. I needed healing then, but I ran away because I was to scared to turn the knob on the door to the pain that was hiding down in the pitts of my heart.

I can honestly say no that I am really to put this all the way in God’s hands, and say good by to all of this pain, and release it at the alter, and get healing because hurting behind this is not going to make the abuse disappear. So the journey to heal from it all is underway, and I also want to invite any woman that is struggling to heal in any area of their life to fully committ it into the hands of Jesus knwoing that He is able to pull you out of this with a great testimony behind it.