When actress Alyssa Milano sent out a tweet on October 15, 2017 that said, "If you've been sexually harassed or assaulted write 'me too' as a reply to this tweet," she woke up the next morning to find that more than 30,000 people had used the hashtag #MeToo. #MeToo has now been used millions of times in at least 85 countries. It's also brought a national reckoning unlike any in recent history. From Harvey Weinstein to Al Franken, Louis C.K. to Matt Lauer.


But it's about more than #MeToo. It's about how men view women, the place and position of women in the eyes of God and in the Kingdom economy, how "silence is not spiritual," the prevalence of domestic violence in the   home and how men and women should interact.


#METOO Stories

  • AN ANONYMOUS STORY...

    The earliest I remember being abused is 4 years old. It was my grandfather. It began years of molestation and abuse that no one would know about until I was 19 years old. I kept it a secret; it never stopped. I was so angry with the whole world but yet continued to carry the burden around. I thought If I was silent I was protecting everyone else, but I was failing myself. I began having suicidal thoughts, looking for attention anywhere I could, wanting someone to love me because I thought I was invisible, having to deal with the thoughts of being better off dead, to the point that I thought death was the answer. I thought sex was love, I didn’t want to have sex with anyone but if I did it was because I thought I had too. I didn’t think I had a choice. I was beaten and broken. Today I still struggle with those same issues. Simply because a man I trusted took everything from me.

  • AN ANONYMOUS STORY...

    My story began when I was 19 years old. I was going through a rebellious stage...met a guy that was 17. He was not the typical guy that I would have dated, but a friend said to me, "It's not like you're going to marry him, just have fun..." He was a very jealous boyfriend, which at first I thought it was because he cared. As I got to know him better, I realized he was controlling and verbally abusive. Then I realized I was pregnant. I had always been a pretty smart girl, so I knew this was not right. I distanced myself throughout the pregnancy. When I was a little over 8 months pregnant, my parents moved to Tennessee (we are originally from another state). My father had lost his job and had found a new one in Nashville. My doctor would not let me go with my parents because I was so far along, so I had to move in with my aunt. Two days after my parents left, I went into labor and had my baby 3 weeks early. I was then able to move to TN, however, I wanted the child's father to be a part of his life. When I was able, I drove back to my hometown with my baby to visit his father. I figured, this baby had changed my life, made me want to be the best person I could be, surely it would be the same for his father. I ended up staying in my hometown, moved in with the baby's father and his family. My parents were so upset with me, they disowned me. I knew there was no turning back at this point. Then the abuse began...I was not allowed to have any friends at all. If I went any where, it was never alone. I had to either be with him or with someone in his family. After about a year, his parents decided to pay for us to move out and live in a trailer that was outside city limits. They did this because we were going to be the home for their drugs...they thought it would be safer. We had at any point in time about 50 pounds of marijuana and at least a kilo of cocaine in our trailer. This family that I had entered into were drug dealers. I guess I should have realized this when I found out that my boyfriend had just been released from juvenile detention for selling drugs when I met him. I just had no idea the magnitude of the situation. Now, even though we lived away, I was still not allowed to go anywhere alone. When he left, he would have one of his brothers or sisters come to stay with me. Then the physical abuse began. There was one day that he left before his family could get there and I tried to leave...I threw some things in my car along with my child and tried to leave. My clutch went out on my car. I was terrified that someone would show up and see that I was trying to leave, so I pushed the car back to where it had been parked and took everything back in the house. His parents stopped paying our rent, so we got evicted. We moved to another trailer in town, which was closer to his parents. Things kept getting worse. We would go through the drive thru, get something to eat for him - because that is all the money we had. He would eat - may be give some to my son, but I could only watch. I worked at a restaurant, so I ate there when I was working. He would take every penny that was in my apron at the end of my shift. If I said anything or ever disagreed with this man, I would be punished. Sometimes that meant being kicked in the stomach while lying in a fetal position, sometimes it was him going out and sleeping with other women - coming home with marks on his neck and telling me about it. One time, he was looking through the clothes hamper (I had just done laundry at his parents home) and he found a pair of his dads underwear. He immediately thought that I was having an affair with his dad. He got his gun, held me down with the loaded pistol shoved into my temple - telling me he was going to kill me for sleeping with his father. He kept yelling telling me to admit it. I wasn't sure what to say, I knew I had not slept with anyone especially his father, but what did he need to hear to keep from killing me? I was sobbing, and just kept repeating that I didn't do this...After what seemed like forever, he stopped. The abuse continued...he was so mentally and verbally abusive I was convinced I was worthless and had no self esteem. Sex was not optional, he would take it if he wanted it, didn't matter what I wanted. I can't even get into those details...I became pregnant again. I thought I had learned what would set him off and tried to avoid those things. But once I was driving down the road, he was in the passenger side of the car and we came to a stop sign. A man crossed the street in front of us. Since I was looking in that direction, I was immediately punched in the face. I was not allowed to look at other men. Even while driving...After baby #2 was born, I knew I had to come up with a plan to leave. My parents and I had repaired our relationship and they would visit when they could, but they lived out of state. They knew something wasn't quite right, but didn't know the details. If I even hinted that something was wrong, I knew I would be punished. He would choke me until almost passing out while yelling at me because he wanted to make sure he got his point across. My mom came to visit once and stayed in my son's bedroom. The bedroom was next to the bathroom. My husband had drilled a small hole in the wall, so when my mom was taking a shower, he could look through the hole and watch her. I was sick inside...I wanted to tell her, but he had threatened to kill me and her if I told. He began going out almost every night. Since his brothers and sisters were getting older, they could not always stay with me. When I was alone, he would make sure he took the car keys or the car, and we didn't have a phone. I would weep every night and beg God to either let him get into an accident and die, or just decide not to come home. I knew one day he would go too far...I then got pregnant with baby #3. When I had the baby and couldn't work, we became homeless. My husband would not work, he would only sell drugs for his father, which he used up most of his profit. We moved into another trailer that belonged to his sister, she was going out of town for a while and told us we could stay there. One day I was holding my infant, my husband threw a plastic bat at my oldest child and hit him in the head because he was standing in front of the TV. Of course I said something to him, which I immediately paid for. He took a pair of scissors and stabbed me in the back, not too deep, but just enough so I would feel the pain. He kept the scissors there so I would not move, then slowly started to cut across my back. This was my moment that I knew I had to leave, no matter what. My parents came into town a couple weeks later. They would stay with my grandmother when they came to town, and I would always come up with a lie as to why we were living wherever we were at the time. Before my parents arrived, he made it very clear to me - by choking me - that I was not to even think about leaving with them, or he would not allow me to see them. I promised I would not. But I did...I left with pretty much the clothes on my back and my children. I came to TN, filed for divorce a few weeks later. I had to go back to my hometown for court. My father went with me, but my husband did not show up. Thank God! My father was able to get some of the kids things from my in-laws, but not everything. I have not seen this man or his family since the day I left. Neither have my children. That has been more than 17 years ago. It took me 8 years before I could sleep through the night without waking up several times terrified. I still sleep very lightly. I have always been somewhat of an introvert, but I am now more than ever. I don't make friends easily, I'm very quiet and keep to myself. I have never told anyone these details. My parents know about the scissors and that is all. I have tried to date over the years, but am always told that I am very guarded or have a hard shell. I'm finally trying to break that down. Generation has shown me that it's okay to trust people again and I am starting to realize that I need other people in my life - I can't always do everything by myself. I want others to know that no matter what happens, you can make it through.

  • An Anonymous Story...

    My story is more like a book, I will try to keep it short. My abusive life began before I was even born, you see my father was cheating on my mother while my mother was pregnant with me, and he had another woman pregnant at the same time my mother carried me. My half sister and I are 7 months apart. My parents had an abusive relationship as my father was a womanizing alcoholic, during a fight in the car when my mother was 8 months pregnant with me my father pushed my mother out of the car while he was driving, we both survived that! On the day I was born my father did not come to the hospital to see me but to serve my mother with divorce papers, that ended there marriage. My father married the other woman shortly to follow. I lived with my mother who lived with her mother when I was born, I stayed in their care until I was 4 years old when my mother said she had asked my father to keep me while they took a vacation, to where I was told my father would not give me back, he had kid napped me - lie! I later found out my mother signed over custody to him and his wife who he had cheated with years prior, they had 3 children together at this time. I do not have a lot of memories at the age of 4 but I do remember the fights they had, I remember sitting on the couch with my 3 sisters watching my dad and step mom throwing kitchen knifes at each other, something like that sticks with you! They had a toxic relationship and as I got older if just continued to get worse, my father left when I was 6 or 7, he still suffered from alcoholism. He left me in behind, right after his absence her rage and anger was directly aimed towards me, the step child from a woman she hated, an extra mouth to feed and she became abusive towards me. When I was around 8 or 9 she got her a boyfriend, moved him in and he began sexually molesting me in addition to her already abusive behavior to me. My grandparents had starting fighting for custody of me around this time, I told them about the all the abuse but the system always showed favor to my step mom, I remember looking out the window on several occasions wondering where my mom was and why she left me, why my dad left me, why my step mom hated me, why did God hate me, was I going to die from the abuse? At the age of 12 I testified against both my step mom and her boyfriend, the judge finally let me move to my grandparents. My grandparents shipped me across the country to live with my birth mother who had 2 sons and a husband, the step dad started molesting me as soon as I moved in, how was this happening again to me? Why me? Was this normal? Who could help me, I was states away from my grandmother... I was a stranger to my mother, I was alone and stuck! We moved back when I was 13 when I decided to run away. I took an overdose of pills, trying to kill myself. I couldn't take anymore, I was a child I had not asked for any of this. I just went from 1 bad situation to another and I wanted to be in control of some part of my life. I was tired of the pain and abuse, but somehow I survived the massive amount of pills I swallowed which were my friend's father's prescription heart pills, pills I had no clue what I was taking. I even took prescription dog pills, but I survived, and knew something had to change. I told my mom what was going on only to have her turn her back on me. She stayed with him, with his money and comfortable lifestyle... I had to go live with family as the system opened a case against my step dad, they found child pornography in our home and he was wanted on 2 accounts of rape in another state, but still my mother stayed with him. He was sentenced to life in prison and I guess he decided death was better than jail so he killed himself, I remember being 13 years old and getting the call saying he was dead, I immediately laughed and cried at the same time, I think the laughter was from a feeling of relief. I knew he would never hurt me again but you know what really hurt: a statement my mother made to me after telling her what I went through. After her never having protection of me, her turning her back on me, was a statement she made after I moved back home. I had apologized, yes I was sorry, feeling guilty because they lost the life they love, a life of money and stability and I was the victim but made to feel like a criminal... Her statement to me was I guess the only ones who will ever really know what happened is you, him and God. Well that broke what little of my heart I felt I had left. My teenage years were rough with my mother, I had no supervision so I was a wild child. A fall out between my mother and grandfather brought us to Portland where my mother met her next husband who was only 10 years older than me. I was 15 and he made an inappropriate comment to me and I decided NO! not again, I am too old for this crap even though I did not feel that telling my mother was going to do any good but for my sake I had to tell her, so I did and guess what? I was the liar, I was called a slut. They ignored me when I came in the room, I was rejected! I was in middle school at the time, I told a friend about my situation, she told her mom and I ended up moving in with them and stayed until I was almost 16. I had maybe moved back home for a few weeks before I met my current husband. We went on a few dates and I immediately moved in with him, we married 6 months later, I was 17, and a high school drop out. Our marriage was not great in the beginning but we continued to put the work in. I thank God for my husband. I feel he was sent to me to show me good men still exist, and that I am not an object; he respects me and I am finally loved like God commanded a husband to love a wife. I am not a perfect mom but I love my children with all my heart. In 2005 I went and got my GED, attended community college, raised our children in a warm, loving happy home and here we are 25 years later more in love than ever. Through my story I have endured a lot of hurt, heartbreak, brokenness, shame, guilt, and pain but I have also learned it is and never was my fault and I have forgiven each and every person that hurt me, by God's saving grace

  • Sharon's Story...

    My story begins when I was born in December 1962 but it takes a terrible turn when I was about 5 years old. That is the one and only time I remember my uncle molesting me. I woke up but pretended to be asleep and just tried to hold my legs as tight as I could hoping and praying he would just go away. Finally he did. I laid awake all night terrified he would come back and thanking God continuously that he didn't. The next morning I told my aunt (not his wife another aunt). She told me no one would ever believe me so I needed to just stay quiet. So I did and as a 5 year old I figured if no one would believe the truth then I would just lie about everything so I did. I also wanted to make sure I was not pretty any more so I started to eat and eat and hoard food. I talked a family member into taking me to cut my hair. My hair was very long and pretty and I wanted no part of pretty. Because of one action by a sick man a chain reaction started that lasted almost 50 years. I food binged, hid food in my room and would swear I hadn't eaten anything just so I could get more. I lied about everything. If the wall was blue I would do everything I could to convince you it was red. These traits went on until I became 16 then I figured sex was a way to get love. But in order to have sex I needed drugs or alcohol. I never found what I was looking for. And I would just continue to eat my way to a very protective wall. After years of fights in school, drugs, and drinking, I graduated high school. My best friend was kidnapped 1 week after graduation and she didn't come home. That was a very dark time but with food, drugs, and alcohol I survived. In 1988 I was blessed with an amazing gift from God my daughter. The drugs were gone and the alcohol was gone but the food was still my hiding place. It wasn't even comfort just a place to hide. In 1991 I became pregnant again and no father insight and my daughter's was long gone so all I new to do was have an abortion. This killed me. I started using drugs again and eating even more. For me food was like someone elses crack or whiskey. In 1992 I met the love of my life. He knew my story but loved me anyway. He truly treated me like I had longed for my entire life. I knew he drank but as long as it didnt damage our little family I was ok with it. We lived together for 2 years then got married. Once I said I do he changed. He quit his job the drinking became awful. We stayed together until 2002 when I had an affair, told him I wanted a divorce, and I moved away with my daughter. He never knew I had the affair but I did and I carried that guilt for years. I got involved with another alcoholic which changed my life. By the time I realized how bad his drinking was he was very verbally abusive and so sick he was dying. Even with the abuse I couldn't leave so I took care of him until he died in 2006. And this is where my life took a turn I didn't think I would ever come back from. I moved back home took time off work and just got stupid. At this time my beautiful 17 year old daughter with her entire life ahead of her had a daughter. I felt sorry for me always asking God why me. Never going to God just blaming God. Then in 2008 I met the person that almost literally killed me. He was amazing, said the right things, and did the right things. Yet he had me conditioned then he started hitting and threatening. He yelled and blamed me for everything. When I went to my daughter's wedding the mother of the bride was covered in bruises. It would take him taking me to a house, beating and raping me almost daily for 4 months before I could escape. And escape by the grace of God I did. I got him to let me go to the bathroom and as I passed the front door my father appeared and picked me up and took me out the door. My father had be deceased for 11 years at that time. God sent him to save me. A long year followed but he received 23 years for what he did to me and another woman. I couldn't leave the house for almost a year. While he had me in the house he controlled my food and my cigarettes so once I escaped I swore he would not control me any longer. I spent a year eating my way to 369 lbs. and every bite I took I would say hahaha your not controling me now. Little did I know but I was allowing him to still control me. I finally gained control and stop bingeing. But because I hadn't dealt with any of my abuse ever I still couldn't loose the weight. And continued to binge. In 2011 I met someone else I thought yep this is it Mr, Right. Nope he was very mentally abusive but I chose to ignore it. In 2013 He sent me a txt saying "Hey you have been a great wh*&^ for 3 years but now I have found someone I can marry and love. WOW I couildnt believe it after everything I had done for him. I did a lot of soul searching over the next 10 months and realized it truly was time to get God in my life. I pushed him away along time ago. So in September 2014 I went to church with a friend and I asked God to be my Lord and Savior. The following week God sent me to Generation Church. I felt like I was walking in there to say my goodbyes and ask God to forgive my sins because I was ready to go home and stop the abuse. Not the first time I felt like this but it was the first time I had no doubt I was gonna do it. I honestly can't tell you what Pastor B preached about but I do remember sitting in front of JR and Jessica Garretson and thinking this must be a good church they want couples to show they love each other and I saw Chuck Brooks long hair and tats I thought wow they do except everyone. I knew that because he wasn't just there he was serving. I saw Susan Reid, someone I didn't know, offer me coffee and a donut. How could I want to die when all of these people seemed to care. Then I was introduced to Pastor B and all of my fears left. I have spent almost 4 years now serving a God I can't get enough of, following an amazing group of people on a dream to build a building to do God's work in. I don't worry about relationships with a man, it would be nice because I do get very lonely sometimes but God is enough. In May of last year I finally gave over my food burden to God and have control of it most days but He has me when I don't. I am down 60lbs and working hard. For the first time in my life I dont feel like a victim, I know I am a survivor. Presently I am 19 months free from food binging. I still make bad choices but I make more good choices now than I ever heve, This is my story...#metoo

  • An Anonymous Story...

    I have never told my story to anyone, outside of the few that knew. When I was 13 years old, my sister's, 26 year old, husband of 5 months took advantage of me and sexually abused me. I had always thought of him as a brother, a protector, and trusted him. As I went through this harsh pain and secret for 4 months, I went to school and was set free. I remember telling a teacher on a Friday and that following Monday after the Super Bowl my life forever changed. I was taken into the guidance office to confirm what I had told the teacher on Friday. I was then put through the hardest time of my life. I was in 8th grade. I still had high school to go through. The biggest 4 years of my life were the worst. I was a bigger girl but that summer before I stared my freshman year, I lost 35 pounds and barely weighed 100 pounds, wet. I had wanted a new look and new person to start fresh, when in reality all that abandonment from the people I needed the most only made me chase it else where. I was so confused why I was being punished for something that wasn’t my fault. My sister didn’t believe me that I was the victim, he was all that mattered, she is still married to this man and has children with him. My parents were confused and didn’t know how to help, but I was the child. I was hurt, yet I was the one who was punished. I was left alone in the dark with no one to talk too while they thought and looked at me as the initiator in this situation like it was my fault this happened. They would support and help my sister and make harsh comments and actions towards me. My brother and his girlfriend (now wife) did everything they could to help and support me and for that I am forever grateful. They loved me when I couldn’t even love myself, but when you’re hurt like that, you always want your mom and dad to hold you and tell you it’ll be okay.. Mine were absent and pushed me away, brushed everything under the rug. As a young mom and wife it has taken me till now to understand that God isn’t finished with me. He gave me my saving grace, my husband and son, who are forever on my side and love me unconditionally. This church has taught me more than I could’ve ever imagined. My biggest blessing was realizing that my Heavenly Father never abandoned me. He was always there no matter how many times I pushed Him away and blamed Him. No matter how many times I begged Him to just take me away from the pain, change the past, question Him, when in reality... I should’ve leaned to Him. As a 23 year old that has gone through life steps that many 30 year old would never think of, I made it through my disaster, and man... my masterpiece has only begun. I stepped away from the hurt which will always haunt me, but with God, I know He is there and is holding my hand every step up of the way.

  • Alan's Story...

    I grew up in a Christian home. My dad was an ordained minister with a seminary education. He was the guy who led the choir and waved his hands while we sang hymns on Sunday. My Mom played the piano at church and taught me unconditional love. Even though I could get in trouble with the best of them, I learned about God from being at church. At age seven, I asked Jesus to save me. My earliest memory after becoming a Christian is a camping trip my dad led for the teenage guys in our church. Even though I was only eight, Dad let me tag along. I was excited as we were going fishing, swimming, doing a cookout, and hiking. I just wanted to hang out with my dad! We did go swimming and that’s when four of the guys decided it was time for me to learn “guy stuff” about sex. They taught me things no eight-year old needs to know. My parents never told me anything about sex. The normal things like “private parts” just were not talked about. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was just the times but, for whatever reason, it wasn’t talked about. When those four boys grabbed me, life changed. In a matter of a few minutes, I went from being an eight-year old kid with his dad on a camping trip, to a confused, sad kid who wanted to be alone and be left alone. I wasn’t sure why or what it meant but things were never the same for me. I just knew I had to be an awful kid for those guys to hurt me like that. It was the first time I can remember hating anyone or anything. I felt so ashamed. I felt dirty and I never wanted anyone to know about it. Of course the boys told me this was a secret and all that stuff. They didn’t need to worry because I was too ashamed to say anything. No, they didn’t rape me, but they assaulted my innocence in ways that would change me at my very core and affect my future. Life went on after we got back home. I made a plan to protect myself from everyone and everything. When I started seventh grade I had a really hard time. I tried to play football but hated the locker room and having to dress and undress in front of all those guys. I remember the guys teasing me because I would turn my back to dress or I’d wait to be last to dress. Our coach insisted we all had to shower before dressing and I HATED that. I hated myself because I wasn’t sure who I was and I felt dirty. The more frustrated I got, the more I retreated behind walls and hid. I didn’t want anyone to know who I was. I wouldn’t let anyone in because I never wanted to be hurt again. On Sundays we would go to church, have lunch, and then Mom would go to work. Dad, me and my brother and two sisters, would all take afternoon naps. One Sunday, my dad asked if I wanted to nap in his room. What he did to me was selfish, sinful, and drove me into an abyss from which I would never recover. What I wanted, more that anything was for my dad to tell me who I was. I needed him to teach me about being a man. I needed my dad to lead me. Instead my dad failed me. This period of sexual abuse, first by those boys and then by the person I trusted to take care of me, my dad, created a wall around my heart that no one was going to penetrate. I became belligerent at home but was a performer around others. I hated my home life but acted perfect at church, allowing no one to see the real me. Work, work, perform, work, earn the love of God, work, perform… hide from everyone. That was my life. As a senior in high school I fell in first love. My girl and I decided I would join the military reserves. We planned to marry as soon as I got back from basic training. When I got home six months later, she was pregnant by a former boyfriend. To say I was devastated does not tell the story. Once again someone I trusted committed sexual sin against me. I let her inside the wall around my heart and she broke me. So, I made the wall thicker. Six months later I’m 19, attending college, back to living the “work and perform” life. I was avoiding anyone who could hurt me. I got a call from a college girl. “Let’s hang out,” she said. I thought, “I’m so ready for that,” so we met. That first night we had sex. I did what I’d always tried to do, hold back, stop before things got that far. I’ll never forget what she said. “Oh you college boys! You guys are so damn careful. Come on, live a little.” I look back now and I wonder if long ago in the garden a girl named Eve didn’t say, “Oh Adam, you’re so careful. Come on, live a little.” The girl attacked my masculinity, my pride, and, having neither, I gave in. This is not on her, anymore than Adam’s sin was on Eve. I was passive and I sinned. For several months that’s what our relationship was about. I slowly let the walls down just enough to allow the start of a relationship and then I got the phone call. “Can you come over to my house?” We’d dated for about four months but I’d never been inside her house. She would always come out to the car. I got there and her dad was waiting for me. Turns out she wasn’t in college. She wasn’t 20. Even the name she gave me was a lie. She was a 16-year-old high school sophomore and she was pregnant. For the third time sexual sin was in my life but this time, I invited it in. I married that 16 year-old girl and we had three sons. We divorced after five years, our marriage devastated by sexual sin, lying, emotional adultery, and unfaithfulness, not in the sense of physical unfaithfulness, we just did not try to love each other. I could never forgive her for deceiving me about who she was and her age. For that reason I chose not to trust her. I used that excuse to never be emotionally faithful to her. The sexual trauma from events at age eight and 13 plus my sin at age 19, so impacted my view of myself and sex that I was in a very dark place. Pornography made it easy to escape to find the perfect companion. No matter how much I wanted to crawl up out of the abyss, I sank further and further. How has this played out in later life? I kept the walls up and found every possible way to keep from ever being hurt again. No one would ever know the real me. I put all my energy into being perfect. I would work harder than everyone else. I advanced past bosses who hired me. I stepped on people to get to the top. The walls I had around me were so thick that I didn’t trust or need anyone. But God was not through with my story. He brought a Godly woman into my life after my divorce. We were married and will soon celebrate over 30 years of honesty, transparency, and life-giving intimacy in a covenant marriage the way God intended it to be. We were 15 years into our marriage before I could share this story with her. My wife loved my boys and me through the most difficult times of struggle. She loved my sons as if they were her own and showed me that if I would take the walls down and let her into my true self, I could trust her. She refused to let me hide. Slowly I learned how to love without hiding as I saw Jesus in her. God used my wife to break the chains in my life. My story is one of God’s restoring love and provision. He provided a wife who prayed for me and refused to give up on our marriage. I am thankful that she wasn’t scared off by the trauma I’ve been through. My wife knew and loved my dad for 17 years before his death. If you ask her, she will tell you the dad in my story is not the father-in-law she knew. I can tell you that save for a few months when I was 13, it is not the dad I knew either. He was a good dad, but he was not perfect. I am not who I am today because of the sins of four boys, the sins of my dad, or my sins at age 19. All of those things are part of my story but only a part. Whatever I am today is because of decisions I’ve made in response to life. I take responsibility for my life and choose to surrender all that happened to God, accepting His love and forgiveness. He continues to restore me. Whatever there is that is good is because of His grace and love for me. I am not able at this point to say, as James wrote, “consider it all joy.” I am not thankful for those that hurt me. I have however, learned to forgive them. I thank God for never leaving me and for His Grace to pull me up out of the abyss. He made a way when there was absolutely NO WAY. I give all glory, honor and praise to God for my life, for the gift of my salvation, for the victory of knowing Him, and for the riches of abundant life now and for eternity.

  • T's Story

    I grew up in a Christian home, attending church... my father was the spiritual leader of the home and my mother was the rock. I saw everything that a relationship in Christ should be with them and to this day, know that they did everything right. I was 15 when I met this "boy". He was 18 at the time. Against my parents advice, I started dating him but wasn't allowed to leave my parents supervision...our dates were on the porch. About a year and a half later, when I was almost 17 my parents gave me more slack and I got to go out on my first, actual date! I was excited and happy. I knew my boyfriend (20 at this point) was not a perfect guy but I always knew he loved me and that's all that mattered to me. So this date was great. Then we got to go on more and that's when I experienced depravity on a level I never knew existed. He came to pick me up and told me that we couldn't go to the date we had planned but that it was ok because we actually get time together and I was immediately uncomfortable. We went to his house where he lived with his mom and siblings. His mother and siblings made fun of me, and asked me if I thought I was better than them, calling me names and laughing right in front of my face. When I got upset, instead of taking me home he took me in his room to "apologize". After lots of inappropriate and uninvited Activities he asked me to perform oral sex on him and I told him no. He was nice and tried to make me feel better and informed me that this is why everyone made fun of me, because I act above them and I should have had sex with him a long time ago. I refused again and told him I want to go home. He said that I didn't love him and that people were starting to make fun of him for my lack of I treat in him and he didnt like it. Then things shifted and became a point of shame, fear, and anger. He became an evil person, and his family urged it on. He came to me days later and tearfully apologized and told me he was high and that he would never do that in his right mind and that he was done with drugs. This happened a few more times sometimes with his friends urging it on. I refused to ever leave with him again. I couldn't tell anyone so I quit talking to my friends, the happy bubbly girl my parents knew disappeared into an angry closed off person. Everyone was worried about me and I hated myself. The last straw came when I was 18 and he wanted to get back together. We drove out to "pick something up" from a friend and when we got there I hit panic mode. There were drugs everywhere in this little shack out in the middle of nowhere. They didn't even have an indoor bathroom, where I was going to hide. There was home made tattoos happening, drugs, and I never knew people like this existed. He refused to take me home and his friends agreed with him. I have never been more terrified than I was that day. I ended everything after that and still panic when I see certain people and hear certain things 12 years later. It's not fair to my husband, what he has taken from me and what he has done to my mind.

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  • Afton's Story

    The more personal a story is, I feel the harder it is to open up. It was a cold day in February of 2016. I can still feel the cold wind hit my wet, from tears, face. I remember being lost and confused, the sadness, I remember the anger boiling inside of me, and more than any of that I remember the guilt that still can linger to this day. I mean what kind of mother am I? How could any good, half way decent mother not see what had been happening? The day my sweet, beautiful, loving, kind hearted 7 year old told me about the horrible things my ex of 5 years had done to her....... since she was only three years old. I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to scream, yell, cry and fight but all I could do was stand there in shock. Numb with no movement. Arms wrapped around this tiny human that I was suppose to protect!! I had ONE freaking job, to protect my children, and I failed! I had failed and didn’t even know for 5 years. I wanted to die, I had every intention of dying at the point in my life. What good was I if I couldn’t even protect what God had entrusted with me? Only a little over two years has passed since that day. I..... we still struggle and it’s still a fight everyday to help my child live with the damage that was created. But God, man did God do a work in my family since this day. If you can relate in any way to any of my story then know you are not alone and I hope you will join a #METOO small group...

#METOO Support groups


  • Ladies Group

    Wednesdays @ 6:30 PM

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Endorsed local partners

The BABB Center

for counseling

105 Music Village Blvd

Hendersonville, TN 37075

(615)824-3772


www.babbcenter.org