Giving Ourselves Some Grace

As someone with anxiety and depression, I know how difficult it is to cope with quarantine; it’s a drastic shift from attending school daily and seeing friends to a life of monotony cooped up in the home. Not only that, but the fear of disease and the unknowns about the future can be crippling, paralyzing even, during these difficult times. Due to the lack of stimuli in comparison to what I’m accustomed to during the school year, it has been easy for my mind to wander places better left hidden in the past. One matter in particular that I’ve revisited is past mistakes and behavior and in doing so, I’ve uncovered newfound criticisms of myself that only lead to trouble.

I’m not going to lie – it can be incredibly tempting to wallow in this pain and shame for my past actions and decisions. However, a memory came to mind to combat these dark thoughts that I think could be a great comfort and important message to many.

A few months ago, I was shredding papers and organizing documents at my father’s workplace when I took a break to converse with my aunt, who also works there. I was telling her about my fear of never being good enough or of always making mistakes when she said something that has stuck with me ever since – “You give grace to others when they mess up, right? So, it’s time you give some grace to yourself, allow yourself to make mistakes and learn from it, but don’t dwell on it forever.”

I reminded myself of this today, actually, upon the realization that I was beating myself up over an error I’ve recently made. I’ve had to realize that it’s a part of the human condition that we blunder and falter in our steps – it’s an undeniable part of life. However, another part of the human condition is living on after we err and changing our ways in accordance with what we’ve learned from our mistakes. After all, that’s why God gave us the atonement. He wants us to progress, rather than remain grounded in the past, and live with Him someday as perfected beings. Pain is all a part of the journey and once we repent and reconcile with Him, we can be truly happy. Our mistakes don’t define us, only what we choose to do after the fact does.

The lesson to learn in all of this is, of course, to offer ourselves some grace. We shouldn’t condemn ourselves to live miserably forever, all because of one misstep. Rather, we should seek true happiness and forgiveness in Christ, as He can bring us peace even in the deepest internal and external turmoil.

The Book of Mormon

Through my journey in expanding my testimony and learning more about the gospel, I have found that one of the crucial ways in which I can draw nearer to Christ is through the scriptures. Consequently, it is of the utmost importance to read the Book of Mormon and ponder on the principles within this holy book of scriptures in my own life. Although some people doubt the legitimacy of the Book of Mormon, it is one of the most influential works of literature in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints; the book accounts for Jesus’ resurrection and describes His time spent in the Americas after He rose from the dead; in short, it is another testament of the power and good works of God, an addition to the truths found in the Bible. I have always believed the Book of Mormon to be true, but it was not until I read the Spanish version that I developed a deep appreciation for my religion.

This past Christmas, my mother gave me three version of the Book of Mormon: Spanish, Arabic, and Dutch. I love learning languages, so I was eager to begin my journey in reading the scriptures in a language other than English. I decided to start with Spanish, and how thankful I am that I did! Despite being the same account of Christ as the English translation, I gained a newfound appreciation for the gospel. Not only that, but I have come closer to God than I ever was before. It is a great thing to have Christ in my life. After my experiences with sexual assault and mental illness, I have this persistent yearning in my heart for comfort and support; the Book of Mormon provides just what I need and allows me to feel the Holy Spirit when I feel lost. We all feel downtrodden and utterly alone at some point in our lives–that is why we can talk to Christ through prayer and feel His love through scriptures. He knows that we can endure the pain, whether it be physical, mental , or spiritual harm that we are experiencing. One of the things that encourages me to keep going is the scripture Mosiah 26:21 in the Book of Mormon, in which He says: Y el que quiera oir mi voz sera mi oveja; y lo recibiras en la iglesia, y yo tambien lo recibire.” In other words, “And he that will hear my voice will be my sheep; and him shall ye receive into the church, and him will I also receive.” It is crucial to remember that no matter how you have sinned, God will always love you and is always there to embrace you and help you when you need Him most. That is probably the most important lesson that I have learned from reading the Book of Mormon.

My Story: Part Two

Throughout the majority of the first semester of my freshman year, I flourished both socially and academically. I also played tennis on the junior varsity team at my high school and thoroughly enjoyed playing the sport; it was an outlet for any frustrations or anger that I held. Not only that, but it kept me active and prevented me from slipping into a severe bout of depression. I became very close with several girls on the team as well, a few of which I still keep in touch with to this day. In the classroom, I performed exceptionally well on exams and still managed to maintain a social life. In my biology class, I became well-acquainted with this one boy in particular. In order to maintain his anonymity, I will call him Damien. Damien often asked me to help him with his assignments in class and over time, he got into a habit of walking me to my second period class. He often put his arm around me, intentionally brushed his hand against my behind, and made crude sexual remarks that I was too afraid to counter. In my mind, the best way to handle the situation was to ignore the unwanted vulgarity; surely he would stop. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I was sure that it would end there.

On December 8th of my freshman year, a funeral was held for my great-grandmother. I opted to attend school instead, as I worried that I would miss too many important assignments if I were to be absent. After first period, Damien walked alongside me as I made my way to my second period class, per usual. As we neared the classroom, he wrapped his arm tightly around me and slipped his hand into my shirt and beneath my bra. I remained silent in order to deflect from my embarrassment. Damien told me not to enter my classroom just yet–he claimed to have something important to tell me. To my own detriment, I listened and waited for him to make his demands clear. I vividly recall the shrill ring of the tardy bell in perfect unison with the rough lips of Damien pressed against my skin and his hands down my pants. I pulled away. He pulled me back in his arms with an aggressive insistence that I had never recognized in him before. Before I knew it, he was walking away. He didn’t even look back.

I walked into class and the teacher asked why I was late. All I could do was shake my head. Immediately, she recognized that something had happened, and I confided in her concerning the matter in a private corner of the room. Breaking down into tears, I collapsed in her arms and she eventually coaxed me into revealing the name of the boy who did this to me. An investigation into the occurrence ensued on the part of the school. When Damien was sent to juvenile detention, I was immediately targeted by other freshmen who upheld his “innocence”. Many adults at my high school seemed apathetic to my cause, as though I had concocted the story out of thin air. With the exception of the support and affection of my parents, I felt completely and utterly alone. Even my closest friends seemed to be of no help; after all, they had never experienced something of this nature and had no way to truly understand my situation. However, if there is one thing that I can be grateful for, it is that this trial strengthened my relationship with God like I have never experienced before.

My family and I are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints; even so, prior to this experience with sexual assault I had never felt particularly close to God. Even in the first few months following the assault, I was entangled in unhealthy methods of coping that left me apathetic and lacking any desire to live, one of such methods being a short stint with drug abuse. Eventually, though, I realized what a great blessing it is to have God to turn to. Not only did I know of Him, I truly came to know Him at that point in my life. I attribute all my strength in those trying and dark times to God. Through Him, I managed to survive the pain of being so thoroughly violated. In May of my freshman year, I went to court and saw Damien for the first time since he had assaulted me. Fortunately, I got through my victim impact statement before breaking down in my mother’s lap. He was sentenced to a year of community service, individual and family therapy, and was prohibited from contacting me either directly or indirectly. He was also ordered to pay monthly reparations for the trauma that he put me through. As we exited the building with our families, both he and I cried.

Damien burdened me with extensive emotional scarring and prematurely deprived me of my innocence, yet it is an experience that I would never take back, even if I could. It strengthened my faith in God and made me more aware of my knack for writing. In fact, in the spring of my sophomore year I won second place in a prestigious poetry competition that was centered around bringing awareness to the plight of survivors of sexual assault. I have learned that the path of forgiveness and recovery is not linear; it falters, plateaus, and only over a gradual period of time does healing occur.

My Purpose

Thanks for joining me! My name is Madison and I am currently a high school student in California. As a survivor of sexual assault and mental illness, I am an avid advocate for the recovery of all of those struggling with similar issues. I hope that by sharing my experiences, I can inspire people to speak up for themselves. Not only that, but I strive to give comfort to anybody that is having difficulty coping with any tribulation in life. It is imperative that each one of us is the change we want to see in society, from breaking down the stigma surrounding mental illness to speaking up in cases of assault, abuse, and rape. Finally, I believe that my faith in God and journey with religion will be a great motivating factor in creating a positive environment that people across the globe can feel connected to and hopefully spread that kindness and compassion in the real world. After all that I have experienced, I have realized that a blog is just what I needed during the most trying times in my life–it is a place to find safety, solace, and love in, and I hope that my blog will provide that same comfort for all you.

xoxo,

Madison