His Ghosts Have A Face.

Writing has been hard this week. I find myself pushing through a junk yard of memories, getting lost in the inter twinning of trash and old things that have been pushed aside. Trying to articulate moments, describe circumstances, and all the while, finding myself caught up the emotions of it. Staring off at the ground, as I re-live nightmares, past hurts pushing through like whispers, and I’m involved with an inner conversation. Only realizing, a half hour later, I have yet to type a single word.

I keep re-living the same two nights. Like a black and white movie reel stuck on repeat, pictures flashing across the inside of my skull. A red pounding heart, swelling with each plot climax. Two nights, over and over again. The night we smashed ourselves into committing this obscenely shameful act, and the night I was raped by two boys from a neighbouring high school. My first sexual experience, and I was thirteen years old.

It’s hard to tie them together with the right strings, but they are both defined by one element. Violation. A thief breaking in, tearing open your chest and spitting out the fire, that is your light. Replacing it with his own excrement, and leaving you on the ground, destroyed. The only difference between them, is that on one of these nights I was the one left on the ground, and the next, I was the thief.

I willingly stepped into those shoes, and became the abuser.

All the while, I was validating the robberies by imagining myself as this vigilante rape victim, only to turn into the monster I hated most. That’s some fucked up irony.

And so, this is what haunts me every time I sit down to write. Ricocheting between the two memories, unable to move. Two black boulders planted in my mind, woven into the walls of my brain. Back and forth. This is my BIGGEST shame. This is the thing I cling to in the dark and shove under my pillow. The thing I hide. Ignore. Avoid and run from. The thing that laughs at me. That hisses and mocks me, when the people in my life tell me, I’m good and worthy. When they tell me, I’m honourable for writing these memoirs, and all the while, this voice inside, tells me all I’m doing is letting out a big secret. The secret, that…I’m bad.

I have done to someone else, the very thing that destroyed me.

I didn’t rape him, but I may as well have.

I left this man bleeding in the street. To DIE.

There is a person out there in the world, who has thick scars  running along  his face to remind him of his weakness. To remind him, that he was attacked in the middle of the night, on the street, from behind, and left to bleed to death on the sidewalk. Every morning when he wakes up to shave, or shower, those memories stare back at him. Maybe they laugh at him, like mine do. Or maybe, they fill him with rage, with sadness, with despair. Maybe he can’t stand the sight of his own face anymore. Maybe he’s okay, and well and happy. I wouldn’t know.

So, just as I sit and cry. Just as I’m haunted, so is he. Just as I get hit square in the face with flashbacks, and want to crawl out my own skin, so does he. As my ghosts lurk in the shadows, taunting me, so do his. Except his ghosts have a face…my face. The faces of the girls I was with that night. And so as I sit to continue my story, this is what whips my back. This is what pulls me into staring at the floor as tears fall down my face.

I can’t stop thinking about him.

And even though, most days I don’t feel this way,that I know I’m forgiven, and worthy, and beautiful, even though I know the truth, because I know Jesus, I still have these moments. Where, all of the above pains, are a reality. It may have been over ten years since this happened, but consequences are still being lived out to this day. And it’s during these times I have to remind myself, I’m still here. And if I’m still here, than Jesus is still with me. And if He’s with me, then all this can have a beautiful purpose, and with that, there’s no arguing with God.

I’ll most likely write a new memoir post in the next day or two, I just felt really strongly about getting through this, and sharing with you, all that I have. I couldn’t have kept going, without it.

God bless you, and thank you for taking this journey with me, for accepting me, for lifting me up in all the ways that you do. I couldn’t do it with out you. I’ll always keep going, if you keep with me<3



23 thoughts on “His Ghosts Have A Face.

  1. You are ever in our prayers–And Jesus does love you and you know that too. You are a woman after God’s own heart like that flawed king David…God loves him too. Bless you mighty child of the living King!

  2. This made me look at my own dark side. I think we all have dark secrets we’d rather leave hidden and unexposed. You’ve blown the door open on yours and that is amazing. So proud of you girl, I know how hard this must have been to write.

  3. You may have done bad things, but you are not a bad person. Your words are inspiring, helpful, eye opening to me and a lot of other people I am so blessed to know you and have you in my life.

  4. You are in my prayers. Your story is an example of the insight that “hurt people hurt people.” Jesus forgives us all. And we get to share the light. You make a difference here. Thanks for telling your story.

  5. Angie – I have “scanned” this post and I commit to spending at least 1/2 hour prayerfully digesting your ‘beating heart’ expressed above.
    Q1: Do you have any “artwork” that you associate uniquely with this post?
    Q2: If not, why not?
    Q3: I will pray about this as I am reading it later and ask specifically for wisdom as to whether I have anything HS (the Holy Spirit) wants to channel through me as a contribution; do you agree?
    Love ya kiddo.
    Beat’s workin’.

    • I didn’t think of artwork, because I was just focusing on getting this out with as much honesty as possible. But, I would love to think of a piece that relates to his. I fully believe that God speaks to us through others, and would love for you to pray, and ask if there is anything He would like to press on you about this. Love ya too Glenn, your sister in Christ always, Angie

  6. If you looked to your left and then looked to right you will see how many others have travelled down this same path. Some of us see it, embrace and try to heal from it by owning and moving forward. Others may hide and never see their part. Then there are women like you who are brave enough to say it and rip open the memory for all to see. Thank you – for those of us who thought we might be alone in this.

  7. I like waiting for a week or so and then checking out a bunch of your work at once 🙂 It’s inspiring and heartbreaking and heartwarming all at the same time.

    Someone above asked if you did any art with this; I think this entry is a piece of art! You know what I do, and therefor you and your words (and art!) help give me motivation. Everyone can overcome their mistakes and grow from them. You certainly did that and more! You are strong, creative and courageous; a great person with a huge heart!
    Okay, I could keep going, but I’ll stop now.
    oh and thank you for sharing with us!! ❤

  8. Hey Angie,
    I think this was my favorite of all your posts that I have read. of all of the youth that I have worked with the biggest challenge they seem to experience is facing the their past. The devil always wants to keep things in the dark where he can have control. But Christ brings things into the light so that we can be set free. To me this post was all about you saying, I choose the light, no matter how gut wrenching and difficult it will be. I think it is extremely brave and I commend you for it. This post was an inspiration and I was definitley challenged by your words to examine my own life. Thank you and God Bless.

    • Hey Jason!! Thank you so much for reading..feel free to share this with anyone you feel might need it. I’m honored to know you have been following, and hope to see you again sometime!!! If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to get in touch with me. God bless you brother, Your sister in Christ Angie

  9. Hi Angie, I don’t know you but I am a friend of Glenn Gardner and he made me aware of this post. Thanks for sharing this. it took a lot of courage. The good news is that you are in fact (and can be experientially) completely made new by Jesus. He didn’t make you to keep revisiting your shameful memories. It’s the Dark One who keeps accusing you with them. Your heart can be completely healed by Jesus’ mercy and power so that you are free to live the way you truly want to, and be the sign of hope to others that you evidently want to be.

  10. Angie, you are so inspirational….I love reading your posts. They give me strength….I believe we have all hurt someone deeply for whatever reason, at some moment in our lives. I deeply admire you, to openly share it. Your our a great person with great courage. Dont ever stop writting, you are helping others.

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