"God, Why Me? What is wrong with me? Am I not worthy?"
I have always asked myself these questions since I was a little girl. I would see my sisters and friends having so much fun. Whereas I was called unimaginative, boring, and no fun. Sometimes I would watch others playing and wonder why I didn't find joy in those things. I was happy reading, singing or just being in church.
Being born and raised in the church, you see a lot of things that you normally wouldn't see. I grew up feeling isolated and shunned a lot from family and friends. Some of it was my choice and some was just how people treated me. As I got older I realized that some of what happened to me was not my fault, but because of my insecurities, low self esteem, and the fact that I didn't love myself attributed to how I allowed others to treat me.
Going into my first real relationship at the age of 23, I had the thought that this person was gonna love me and be all the things that I "thought" I needed. But looking back now, I see how silly my thinking was. Here was a person who was flawed in his thinking just like me and who I thought was my saviour from all the craziness of my past, failed attempts at relationships. Here was a person that I put a crazy demand on, making him my complete focus, as if he was Jesus. I was determined to make this relationship last forever and work, no matter what I had to do, say or give up. I did everything to make sure this person knew that there was no one else before them. That no matter who said anything to me about them, I wasn't going anywhere. Life as I knew it back then was consumed by this individual. I became a different person in order to please them. I realized later on that it would be hard to change this negative way of thinking. Life was slowly becoming disastrously dangerous for me.
Laying in that hospital bed after suffering and being beaten by this person who I gave my life too had me really thinking about the choices I had made in my life. Those same old familiar questions from childhood came rushing back to me. Why did God let me live? Why Me?
I begin to question everything in my life that had happened to me. I had endured way more before I met him, so why was leaving this one person, who was abusing and hurting me in every way, so very hard for me? Why?
As I begin to ponder and ask myself these questions, the only thing that kept coming to my mind was that God had a plan and a purpose for me. My life had a reason and me still being alive had a purpose. I learned that I didn't need anything or anyone to define me. I finally came to the realization that there was nothing wrong with me. I deserved to be treated with love, respect and dignity like everyone else does, but I had to first love, respect and treat myself with dignity.
So my "Why Me," questions became a "Why Not Me," statement. Why not take "My Tests" and turn them into my "Testimony," allowing God to heal me and help others? So I made a decision......I no longer ask God, "Why Me? But Why Not Use Me Lord?"
I'm scared. I'm laying in this hospital bed thinking to myself "How did you get here Jasmine, What happened to you?" I'm looking around and I see I'm connected to all type of machines. I call out to the nurse and I ask, "How did I get here? Where are my kids?" She asks me, "What's the last thing you remember." I think, "The last thing I remember was him standing on me yelling. Then I think, "How did this start?"
It all started the night before. My kids father was short $40 for a hotel room. I called and asked my dad to send me the money because I didn't want to be outside. I had 3 babies and I couldn't bear for us to keep sleeping outside. He was determined to use that money for drugs but I didn't care. The morning of the fight, my dad sent me the money. The Kids father told me not to pay for the hotel, that we didn't need it. But I didn't care about what he said, I was tired of sleeping in the car outside with my 3 babies. I paid for the hotel room and had $10 left over. Instead of me doing what I always did, which was give him my money, I kept it and was gonna buy me and the kids some food. I didn't know that he had gotten high that morning and that I was gonna be in the fight of my life that day. I was abused for 3 years but this would be one of the worst days I ever experienced in my life. It started as a simple argument about how I didn't listen to him and how stupid I was. I never usually argued back or fought back but for some reason, this day I was responding to him and arguing with him. At first it was just punches to my head or face, but as time went on, it was kicks to my back or him choking me. Over the span of 10 hours, I was beaten, kicked, punched and pushed. My children witnessed it all. If it wasn't for his mother coming over to bring us some food and see the kids, I'm not sure what would have happened. I can still hear his last words while standing on me yelling, "F*** the Police, Imma kill her before they get here." I heard the sirens and his mother say, "I hope your a** rot in jail." As I was laying there, I prayed this prayer, "God if you let me live, I will leave and never come back, Please just let me live."
As I told the nurse this story, she had tears in her eyes and she said, "Baby, God answered your prayer, you survived and your kids are doing okay." As she said this, my aunt walked in my hospital room. She had driven from North Carolina to Augusta, Ga to pick up my children and to check on me. My parents drove almost 14 hours to come rescue me. As the days went on, I realized that I was a survivor. I realized that it was God who saved me and brought me out. I keep a smile on my face and when I wake up everyday that no matter what happened, I can talk, I can walk and I get to be with my children.
