KoleanW Sanders
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or years I avoided the pain of an abusive past. I would run by creating distractions that required my intense thought and full concentration, until I was too exhausted to give my memories the time to nestle in. I discovered I could lose my mind in the pursuit of work and in the conquest of business achievement. Hard work became a convenient way to deflect the horrid memories of being victimized in my early years. I felt it was a better choice of self-medication than the abuse of drugs and alcohol. Neither did I want to seek retaliation by being “on the take” as a promiscuous gold-digger. When I realized I could escape my past by overachieving, I remember feeling justified, thinking, “I could be angry or dirty for what happened to me.” Instead, I prayed, “God, please don’t let me be a bad person.” He helped me by opening doors, empowering me to accomplish many things that I could not have done had He not answered my prayer. So, I give Him alone all the glory. Still, there was pain when I was alone during the quiet times. Although I kept my mind occupied, I still was not free. A few years ago, I had an encounter with God that reminded me of the Moses’ burning bush experience where He implanted a compulsion, a seed,
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a vision within. In that mountain top experience, I renewed my commitment to my heavenly Father. He gave me an assignment and He was very specific on what I was to do. It involved plunging into uncharted waters, laying myself bare, exposed and vulnerable. He prompted me to tell my story to the world. It was scary because I would be unearthing much of what happened to me over 40 years ago. God was clear that my healing would be perfected as I removed the force field from around my heart. I didn’t realize that my way of protecting my heart also locked me into an emotional state from which I could not free myself. How I wanted this cup to
WOMAN TO WOMAN WITH JOANNE : THE MAGAZINE • Issue 33, October 2020
pass from me. But I had learned to be obedient and to follow His leading many times before. I had to believe this time would be no different. I had no idea when I began to rehash the gory details and come out of my shadows that a diabolical can of worms would be opened and released. I had hidden and held it in so long. Yet, as with most victims, the emotional side effects sometimes found a way to resurface. Trusts issues, challenges with self-esteem, deep seated desires for vindication, and the need to compete were just a few. After 40 years of quiet terror, trying to forget who did what, when, where