A Beautiful History Part Two

College brought a fresh start, a place to breathe and enjoy my new found freedom.  Putting my acting skills to the test, I joined our university’s theater group.  I had no idea just how badly I would need them.

I had always been the good girl, a goodie-two-shoes.  Before college, I never went to any parties, I didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs, nor have sex.  In college, I had a completely new freedom and by this point, I had a new desire to live my life outside of the prison I had lived in for so long.  I still was a good girl though, I was a moderate drinker, never tried drugs though I had plenty of opportunities, and I was still saving myself for marriage.  One of my friends described me as, “A good girl who tries so hard to be bad…but just can’t.”

It was a custom in theater to hang out at someone’s house after most rehearsals and performances.  We were a close-knit group.  Even though I was with friends, I was still smart I would only drink from a bottle I’d opened, one I poured myself, or watched being poured.  I regularly volunteered to be the designated driver, drinking plenty of water and waiting until I was completely sober before driving anyone anywhere.

After a rehearsal in the spring semester of my freshman year, my friend and I decided to split a bottle of Crown.  Not knowing my limit and not being the DD that night, I was bound and determined to drink the half I paid for; famous last words.  I drank everything so quickly, that I didn’t know I was drunk until I started violently throwing up in the corner of the backyard.  One of my friends sat with me, holding my hair back as I threw up until only stomach acid came up burning my throat.  Another friend carried me into the front room where a few others were sleeping.

Needless to say, I awoke to find myself in every woman’s nightmare.  Once again, frozen with fear, I did nothing to stop it from happening.  Instead of living in freedom, I found myself bound once again by a self-imposed silence; protecting the theater program and directors I loved so much.  This time I had completely bought into Satan’s lies that it truly was my fault.  After all, I allowed myself to get drunk, I left myself vulnerable and I was a fool to be so trusting.

For the next few years, I went about my business as usual, letting the actress in me take over.  In my junior year, I finally shared my most recent humiliation with a trusted friend.  I remember sitting with her after an Introduction to Counseling class (ironic).  I sat there for what felt like an eternity before I actually said anything, though I tried several times.  She was patient, simply waiting for me, not saying a word, just waiting until I could get the words past my heart.  Once again, I was reminded that it wasn’t my fault, but I still knew better than that.  I knew there was nothing to be done, no action that could be taken.  He’d get away with it just like the others but I would be the one left with hurt and with shame and a guilt that should not belong to me…

This story is not over and there is a reason why it’s called a Beautiful History, just hang on and find out why…

2 thoughts on “A Beautiful History Part Two

  1. How I love reading your story because I know the end! I have seen what God has done with all your pain and brokenness. You have blessed me, taught me, and ministered to me from that place of brokenness. God has done a beautiful work in your life. I am reminded of His Word…joy comes in the morning. JOY has come for you, sweet friend. You pour it out in every powerful, passionate prayer you write. Can’t wait to read Part 3!!

    I love you,



    1. Thank you for your kind words Wendy and for being such an incredible support through all of this. I am truly blessed that God chose to bring you into my life at just the right time.

      I love you too,


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