Our Stories
A Thirsty Soul
by Juliet Sharrow
My name is Juliet and I am a survivor of Domestic Violence. There was a time in my life where being beaten was a daily occurrence. I believed I had no choice, believed I had nowhere to go and I believed I deserved it. I was a victim!
Victim is a label no one ever asks for. In fact, it’s a label that has to be forced on us! No one EVER chooses to be a victim. But that label forever defines us. It taints every decision, every moment for the rest of our lives.
Domestic Violence is our best kept secret in this country. No one wants to talk about it and even fewer will admit they are part of this statistic. I know… I have worn the scarlet letter of victim for most of my life. I carried the same of victimhood far too long. Believing the lies my abuser spoke to me, lies that told me I was unlovable. Unwanted. Worthless.
You see like most victims, my abuse started in my childhood. My Grandparents wanted my mother to have an abortion. I was rejected by my biological father who wanted nothing to do with me. I was emotionally and physically abused by my step father, and raised by a wounded mother who was unable to love. From this came a little girl who felt unloved and rejected from as far back as she can remember.
I was an only child, so everything that happened was somehow my fault. With no one else to blame, my stepfather took all his frustrations out on me. And my mother was too weak, too broken to protect me. I learned at an early age that love has to be earned and that love can be taken back at a moment’s notice.
The criticism rich environment of my childhood environment taught me this: I was not good enough, was not accepted, and was not loved. I knew there must be something wrong with me that no one wanted me and no one loved me. I believed I was ugly and unlovable, that no one could EVER love me.
Nothing I did filled the void inside, nothing made me feel loved and accepted. I hated myself so much, and my relationship with my stepfather had gotten so bad, that as a teenager, every day I wished I was dead. I would sit on my bed and tell my mom how much I wanted to die. It consumed my thoughts. I saw myself as a failure and thought my life was not worth living, but I never got up the nerve to commit suicide.
Not until I was 21. By this time, my life had spiraled into such a deep pit, I saw no way out.
At first my spiral downward had been exciting, even intoxicating. I tried to satisfy my thirsty soul with all manner of evils, but the more I gave myself away, the thirstier I got, and I died a little more inside each day. I couldn’t live with the shame and guilt I was carrying around, couldn’t live with the horrible choices I had made. I could not live with myself.
I knew in my heart that no one would miss me. I believed I was doing everyone a favor, and this would finally make the pain go away. So I took a bunch of pills and went to sleep knowing it was finally over, I would never be in pain again!
But obviously God had other plans for me. He sent paramedics to break down my door and save me from myself. I should have died that day, doctors did not understand how I made it. But instead of getting the help I needed, I knew that I deserved to be punished. Not just for trying to take my own life, but for all the bad choices I had made. And so I ran, right into the arms of an abusive man.
And this man promised to love me, he was almost too good to be true at first. I couldn’t believe I had found someone to love me. He was like a knight in shining armor coming in to rescue me. Little did I know this is typical of most abusers. They seem perfect at first, a dream come true. But by the time you learn it’s all lies, it is too late.
When he hit me the first time, I knew I deserved it. I deserved every beating, every broken bone, every humiliation. I had been searching for love for so long, I was willing to accept any love I could get, even love that hurt.
I suffered beatings and torture every day, and I would think, maybe today he'll kill me, because I knew I deserved that too. I died inside a little more with every beating, every humiliation, every broken bone. Each blow confirmed what I already knew in my heart of hearts: No one could ever really love me. No one would ever want me; I was too broken and too damaged. Satan worked his magic through the fists and words of an abusive man.
But one day everything changed. God sent me a precious gift, a life saving gift. He sent me a child. I was so excited when I found out I was pregnant. I would love my child in all the ways I had not been loved. I would somehow make it all right. But the beatings continued even while I carried this child.
I would curl up in a ball and try to protect my precious little gift. Once when I was beaten and strangled until I passed out, I feared that my child could not have survived. I was so relieved when the doctor let me hear that amazing heart beating for all it was worth!
After giving birth to my son, I was still waist deep in a pit of physical, sexual and emotional abuse. I was afraid for my life and for my son’s life, but I was too scared and too weak to do anything about it. So I prayed that God would change my abuser so we could be a family. That’s one prayer I am thankful God answered with a no. Instead God began to change me.
During this time, my love for my son only grew. I took many beatings to protect him. I cried out to God to save him from my fate. And one day the revelation came: someday, this man would hit my son. I could not let that happen. I would do anything for this child and he deserved a better life than this. I loved him so much I'd die to save him, and that's when God changed my life forever. He spoke right into my heart, "Don't you see? That's how much I love you. I gave up MY son for you!"
I thought of John 3:16,
For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son...
I realized that God so loved Juliet, He was willing to sacrifice His son for me! I could not understand how He could love me after what I had done. Having my son showed me what love really was for the first time. Love to me had always hurt, had always been conditional. And I was never good enough to earn the love I so desperately wanted.
And so my love from my son saved my life in more ways than one. I’d never loved myself enough to leave, to get out of the abuse. But, in my love for my son, I found the strength to leave my abuser. I realized for the first time in my life, I did have a choice! I could choose a better life for my son and for myself!
And when I left it was the Safe Home that helped me put the pieces of my life back together. It was not easy. In fact it was the hardest thing I have ever done. And leaving only makes the abuser more angry, so I suffered much at his hands those first few months. I was afraid he would find me and kill me and my son. I was scared to death.
When it was all said and done, my 1 1/2 year old son and I were homeless for a month before we could get into a place of our own. Everyday of that month, I wondered if I had done the wrong thing? Living out of your car with your young child has a way of convincing you that the abuse was not so bad.
Despite all my fear, my love for my son and my faith kept me going. I learned so much about myself in leaving my abuser. That I am stronger than I ever thought I was! That I can do more than I ever thought I could do! That I am worthy of love and acceptance. And most importantly that love is not supposed to hurt!
First I had to learn to love myself, and I had to come to grips with who I really was and what was motivating the decisions I made. I learned that my need to feel loved had consumed me, and had so twisted my thinking that I was willing to allow a man to hit me and torture me, as long as he told me he loved me. And I learned that I needed to take ownership for my part in this relationship. You see, I allowed it to happen. I stayed. I covered up the bruises and broken bones and lied about them. I made excuses for his behavior. All because I believed I was unloved, believed I was not worthy, believed I deserved it.
It took years for me to finally come full circle and step into what God had planned for me! I am excited to get to give back to victims of Domestic Violence. Women who are where I was! Women who are broken, feeling unloved and unwanted, having nowhere to turn. Women who are victims!