How To Turn Pain into Purpose
By Erica Wilson
Starting out with my 1st “IT” (rape) at the age of 10, I can provide first-hand advice on what it takes to overcome, continually develop, and position yourself for past or future IT’S.
THE “IT” JOURNEY
I was 10 years old when I was taken into a dark room where there were five adult men. I had no idea what was about to take place. My heart was racing. I was scared and trying to figure out why they were there. They all were fighting over who was going to rape me first.
The tears falling. I was saying no and didn’t know that the next few moments were about to wreck my life. Four of the men were holding my arms and legs while the one raped me. I started to scream only to be told to shut up and if I didn’t, they would kill me. I don’t know where the strength came from to dry up my tears, but the tears stopped immediately on the outside. I was literally dying inside. My body was in so much pain until I went numb. I remember one of the men trying to pull another off so he could begin raping me.
Can you imagine the pain I felt? I felt disgusting, worthless, scared, violated, numb and empty as the blood on the bed and running down my legs. I couldn’t understand WHY these grown men would do this to me. What did I do to deserve IT? Why was I feeling like this when IT was out of my control?
How would you feel towards men after being violated like that? For me, I started hating men. My Dad couldn’t protect me because he had passed away in a bad car accident five years before. I was already angry with God about my father, now this! I really thought God hated me and that I didn’t deserve to be happy.
Imagine going through life bleeding on people who didn’t cut you. I was angry and mean to almost everyone around me. I became my own worst enemy. I had plenty of fights physically and verbally. I was hurting so bad and thought people could read my mind knowing that I was hurting and wouldn’t help. The “IT” was causing me to lose myself.
God can be a real character at times. He has a funny way of doing things. Here it is starting out with my 2nd “IT” finding out I was five months pregnant as a teen; then delivering the baby at six months on Christmas in my mother’s bed. We couldn’t make it to the hospital to deliver so here came this 1lb 12oz baby boy who was extremely small. His head was the size of an egg, tiny fingers, tiny toes; everything was so small. What would you do after seeing your baby so tiny and fragile? I was so afraid to touch him. I thought if I touched him, something would break. However, it was love at first sight.
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