Nearly every post this morning on my social media feed seems to be dedicated to the husbands, fathers, and grandfathers of my (nearly 25,000) “friends” on social media. Odds, are, you awoke this morning feeling pressured to also proclaim to the world how great your father, grandfather, or children’s father is. Certainly, words of affirmation are one of the “love languages” and social media is a great way to practice that.
But, there is surely also a “silent minority” of sons and daughters, who remain very quiet today. Like me, they may have someone in their life who IS an amazing man/husband/father. And also like me, have someone in their life who IS NOT an amazing example of a great man/husband/father to be celebrated. My father isn’t a hero to be celebrated today.
When I was 12, my father started sexually abusing me. It progressed as I got older, to the point that I was regularly playing the role of a wife to him. It was always framed as “God’s provision” for him, since he didn’t have a physical relationship with my mother, his wife. I was the stand-in, in every way. He was always saying how it was good for me, educational, and he wanted to give me the “ultimate experience in life.” Sometimes the “ultimate experience” meant taking nude pictures of me riding my horse. Sometimes it meant tying me up and whipping me with a riding crop. Sometimes it meant sharing me with other men. Desperate to escape, I considered ending my own life.
I left home at 19 (Soon after meeting my now husband of 15 years Mack Story! Read more about our story in my book). I had a few bags with clothes in them – and little else. Having grown up isolated, controlled, manipulated, and abused emotionally, psychologically, and sexually, I was ill equipped to enter the world and support myself. I had no social skills, car, job, money, or high-school diploma. What I did have was a heavy burden of shame that I carried for years, until 2013 when I shared my story and told the world I wasn’t going to let what happened to me hold me back – and in doing so, I proved it. (Watch my 47 second speech where I shared my story publicly for the first time and won the privilege of speaking on stage with Les Brown)
And, after I left, I realized I had two choices. I could carry bitterness, hate, and resentment the rest of my life. Or, I could let it go.
“You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day.” ML Stedman
I let it go. I chose to forgive. A few words here about forgiveness – forgiving doesn’t necessarily mean forgetting. You may have a relationship from your past, or even your present, that caused you hurt, resentment, bitterness, or anger. You can, and should, choose to let those negative emotions go – and walk away from both the situation and the poison those emotions cause. But, forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to let it happen again, or keep happening. Forgiveness, for me
, meant moving on with my life. But I didn’t forget, and I refuse to be silent about what happened to me.Mark Twain said,
“The two greatest days in life are the day you are born and the day you discover why.” 13 years after leaving home, I discovered my “why.” My “why” is to share my story and help you realize that regardless of what happens to you in life, you can be bitter about it or better because of it. Some fathers aren’t heroes. Perhaps your father wasn’t a hero either. Perhaps it was a husband, grandfather, or someone else who hurt you. As Lewis Smedes said, “To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”
Like what you read? Read more of Ria’s journey in her books Ria’s Story From Ashes To Beauty and Beyond Bound and Broken.
