This Is My Story: Releasing the Testimony I Swore I’d Never Tell

There are stories we share easily.

And then there are stories we protect with silence.

For most of my life, this one lived in the quiet places—not because God wasn’t faithful, but because shame told me this part of my story was too heavy, too personal, too exposing to ever speak out loud.

But God does not heal what we hide.

So today, I am releasing the testimony I swore I’d never tell—not because I have all the answers, and not because the pain no longer matters, but because obedience matters more than fear.

This is my story.

This is My Story: When God Saw What No One Else Did

I was just a child when my innocence was taken from me.

Too young to understand what was happening.

Too afraid to speak.

Too overwhelmed to process the weight of it all.

In that moment, something deeper than trust was broken. My understanding of safety, love, men, and even my own worth was quietly reshaped by trauma I didn’t yet have words for.

For years, I believed God showed up later—after the damage was done. But Scripture tells a different story:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 34:18

He was close then.

Close in the confusion.

Close in the silence.

Close when no one intervened and I didn’t know how to cry out.

Even when I felt unseen, God never turned away.

How Silence Shaped My Life

What happened to me as a child didn’t stay there—it followed me into adulthood.

It shaped how I viewed men.

It shaped how I understood relationships.

It shaped why I tolerated what I should have walked away from and ran from what was healthy.

Shame became my coping mechanism. Silence became my survival.

I carried the belief that maybe I was damaged goods—that what happened to me had permanently altered my worth. And those beliefs quietly influenced every failed relationship and marriage that followed.

But trauma does not get the final word. God does.

“Instead of your shame you will receive a double portion, and instead of disgrace you will rejoice in your inheritance.

Isaiah 61:7

Abuse tried to name me.

Shame tried to define me.

But God never agreed with either.

When the silence is sacred, you begin to see that what felt right may have been sent to destroy you.

This Is Not a Story Wrapped in a Bow

It’s a story wrapped in grace.

Healing did not happen all at once.

There was no instant breakthrough, no clean moment where everything made sense. Healing was slow. It was layered. It was often uncomfortable.

But grace met me in every stage.

Grace met me in the questions.

Grace met me in the grief.

Grace met me when I finally found the courage to speak.

In 2016, I shared this part of my story publicly for the first time at a women’s retreat. My voice shook. My hands trembled. I didn’t know how it would be received.

What happened next changed everything.

Women cried.

Women opened up.

Women began to heal.

That was the moment I understood something sacred: my story wasn’t just my wound—it was a doorway God would use to reach others.

“They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.”

Revelation 12:11

God Never Wastes Pain

What the enemy intended to silence me, God has used to shape my entire ministry.

Not because the pain was good—but because God is.

He took what nearly destroyed me and turned it into compassion, calling, and purpose. He taught me how to sit with women in their broken places without rushing them, fixing them, or minimizing their pain.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

Romans 8:28

This doesn’t mean the pain suddenly made sense.

It means God met me inside of it.

He didn’t erase my past—He redeemed it.

He didn’t rush my healing—He walked with me through it.

Slowly, the places that once held the most shame became the places where His presence felt the most real.

God never wastes our pain. He purposes it! There is always purpose in brokenness.

Your Story Isn’t Too Dark

Your healing is still holy.

For a long time, I believed certain parts of my story were too heavy for God to use.

Too messy.

Too complicated.

Too broken.

But Scripture reminds us that healing has never required perfection—only surrender.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

Psalm 147:3

Healing is holy work.

Even when it’s slow.

Even when it’s layered.

Even when it doesn’t follow a timeline we would choose.

God is not intimidated by trauma.

He is not afraid of your questions.

And He is not repelled by your pain.

He draws near.

This is My Story: Still Becoming, Still Healing

I am not sharing this because every wound is fully healed.

I’m sharing it because healing is ongoing—and hope is real.

There are still layers God continues to touch.

There are still moments where grief resurfaces.

There are still days when I have to remind my heart what Scripture already knows to be true.

But I no longer live in silence.

I no longer believe my past disqualifies me.

And I no longer carry shame for something that was never mine to hold.

“Now unto Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us.”

Ephesians 3:20

This verse is not a promise of an easy story.

It is a promise of a faithful God.

A God who works beyond what we can see.

A God who restores what was broken.

A God who is still writing—even when the pages feel heavy.

If This Is Part of Your Story Too

If you are carrying pain you’ve never spoken…

If you’ve wondered whether your story is too dark to redeem…

If you’re still learning how to trust again…

Hear this clearly:

• You are not ruined.
• You are not disqualified.
• And you are not alone.

God is still at work in you.

And He is not finished with your story yet.

This is my story. This is my testimony.

Not wrapped in a bow—but wrapped in grace.

A Closing Prayer

Father God,

For the woman reading this who feels unseen, unheard, or unsure if healing is possible—I ask that You meet her right where she is. Draw near to the brokenhearted. Bind up the wounds that have gone unattended for too long. Replace shame with truth, fear with peace, and silence with hope. Remind her that You are still writing her story, and that nothing she has walked through is wasted in Your hands.

Amen.