Fear

  In my second verse of the week, I mentioned that "before age 14, I was fearless. Then life hit hard."  Those two little lines hold big meaning. The best I can remember, I was fearless before 14. I don't mean nothing scared me. We all have things that cause us discomfort from time to time. I'm talking about the kind of fear that puts a stop to you being able to live your life without panic attacks striking at any given moment. Before 14 nothing could stop me if I wanted something bad enough. After 14, well that's a different story. 

  Fear is defined as an unpleasant emotion caused by threat of danger, pain, or harm. After 14, the entire world gave me an unpleasant feeling of harm and danger. I went into fight or flight mode and at 53, still can't escape the urge of flight. 14 was the year I learned just how serious the threat of harm and danger is for a young lady or woman. 

                       TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ 

  1-800-656-4673 National Sexual Assault Hotline 

  988 Suicide Prevention Hotline 

When I looked these up on Google, they both have a text to chat option if you do not feel comfortable talking directly with someone over the phone. If you don't feel comfortable with those two options, please reach out to a trusted friend or myself at cholley.ch@gmail.com please put "God's Princess"-help in the subject line so that when my notification pops up, I know to check it quickly. I am not a licensed therapist, just someone who understands and would be willing to listen. 

  That being said, I would like to share a short story and a poem I wrote with you. 

                                   "The Predator"

                                      By: Christie

Like a predator stalks it's prey,

you sought me out.

Guess I should be thankful it was me,

not some other girl,

but I'm not.

I was an easy target,

staggering around.

Were you pleased with yourself 

when you lured me in

with your promise of help?

Help, finding my friend. 

Help, returning home safely. 

And why?

Why add fuel to the fire?

Strawberry Wine, 

Did I really need more? 

Were you unsure you'd be successful?

So many questions.

My head spins now,

just like then.

You, with your broken promises.

Me, with a shattered soul.

YOU 

O' how I hate you

and

Strawberry Wine.

             "Oh How I Loathe Strawberry Wine"

                                             By: Christie 

  Pop! Shivers dash down my spine when the scent hits my nose. That queasy feeling rushed over me and I need air. Strawberry, of all things, it had to be Strawberry Wine. I will never understand how certain sounds or smells can send you sailing backwards through time, but they do. For me, that means the year 1988. Much appeared to be going on around the world. Iran and Iraq signed a cease-fire, President Reagan signed the Civil Liberties Act, and AlQuadea had formed. I was oblivious to all that though. My life was falling to pieces and the last thing I cared about was anyone else.

  I grew up where the doors are never locked and going outside alone to play all day is highly encouraged. Everyone knows everyone and you can not take a pee without everyone knowing. Just outside the city limits lay mile after mile of the greenest pasture fields all dotted with white and black spots, cows, of course! Always reminding me of a salad sprinkled with salt and pepper. Always looking like a place belonging in a Better Homes and Garden Magazine. Never worrying about safety. That was, until he came along.

  Coming into my life early fall 1988, "The Predator" rearranged life as I knew it. Growing up sheltered and having a good heart, I naively thought everyone else around me had the same beliefs as I. I see myself as ten feet tall and bullet proof when in reality I reach five feet three inches and way one hundred pounds soaking wet. I am shy, backwards, and have low self esteem so it's safe to say I'm usually a hot mess. 

  Recently divorcing and spending their time fighting over who had to take us kids, my parents actually knew very little about my life. Finding a way to escape the sting of my parents separation was easy, alcohol...sweet, sweet alcohol. Strawberry Wine to be exact. Alcohol quickly became my downfall. My best friend had a neighbor who was much older than us and took us under her wing per say because both our mothers were out of the picture. One day she came wondering if we might housesit for her. Every young teenagers dream, a night with no parental supervision. We all go over town so we  can stock up on our favorite beverages and we are all set to have our girls night that we will remember for always. It is now something I pray to forget. 

  Getting our alibis together quickly falls into place. I inform my father that I'm staying at my friend's house. He interrogates me like expected. Will her father be there? Yes dad. Are you going anywhere? No dad. My friend follows suit and tells her dad she is staying with me. Everything is falling into place perfectly. Our night is going to be great. 

  The music is drowning out our laughter as we sit talking the evening away. It is all the normal teenage girl gossip. What boy is dating what girl, who is cheating on who, and who is the cutest boy ever. Coming up with a deal, we both decided neither of us will leave the house. We do not need to get caught up in our lie. Eventually my Strawberry Wine runs out and of course I need more. Strawberry Wine makes me happy and by this point in my life, not much can do that.

  Stumbling my way across the room, hitting the door frame rather hard, I inform my friend, I am leaving. I am going over town. From behind, I feel my friend trying to stop me. "If you leave, do not come back," I hear her say as I'm walking out the door. I keep walking, shutting the door behind me. Not caring about anyone else and doing what I want is normal for me at this time in my life.

  The walk over town is one short block. There before me sits the city park, shining in all its glory from the car's headlights as they cruise the block. At this point, walking is more like stumbling but I carry on. I am dead set to find a certain someone I have a crush on. I continue stumbling my way around the park, calling out to everyone I see and asking them if they have seen my friend. I make it halfway around the park before someone calls me over to where they are hanging out. He is a very tall slender man of which I have never seen before. I walk over because talking to a stranger in a small rural town is fine. The bad stuff only happens on TV. Besides, I'm ten feet tall and bullet proof. The Strawberry Wine is clouding my judgement some and only adds to my negligence. I notice right away how charming this man is. He is listening so intently to every word I say. Right away he promises to help me find my friend and get home safely. I accept his offer and climb in the passenger seat of his car. 

  We cruise the park but there is no sign of this boy I'm crushing on, so the man suggests we go uptown and look. On our way uptown he makes a quick stop at the gas station. He swiftly returns with another bottle of Strawberry Wine. As we drive, we talk and I drink. He is driving so he doesn't want any. Hmmm cute, considerate, and responsible. He seems okay to me. We can't find my friend so he offers to take me home. I tell him how to get there and off we go. Upon pulling up in the driveway we see lights on and my dad's car in the driveway. He is supposed to be out of town. Guess we both lie. I can't go there. The second bottle of wine has kicked in and walking is not an option. I tell "The Predator" to take me to my friend's house. Hopefully she will be forgiving and let me in. Upon arrival, I do not recall if we knocked or just walked on in. Of course I'm not walking the man is carrying me at this time. I can hear my friend asking who he is and what he is doing so I reassure her he is just helping me home. He carries me up the steps. The sound of the lock clicking startles me but moving is not an option.

  I open one eye, everything is still spinning. Where am I? How did I get here? As I awake I start to recognize my surroundings. Oh my head hurts. Why does my body hurt so bad? Where is my friend? Slowly I roll out of bed and start downstairs. With each step I remember more and more about last night. The tears are slowly falling down my cheeks. I hear my friend, "good morning" she says. "I'm sorry," I say.

  The scent of Strawberry Wine is in the air and I'm becoming queasy. I need air. It is a warm fall evening, similar to that night. I feel his body on mine all over again. I hear his empty promises of returning me home safely. I hear the click of the lock. The tears are welling up and slowly falling down my cheek just like the morning after. Oh, how I Loathe Strawberry Wine. 

  If any of you can relate to this story, I would like you to understand that you were never to blame. It has taken me a long time to understand that. I felt so ashamed of myself that I even pushed God away. I couldn't handle feeling like a disgrace to God. I feared His judgement. I was wrong for pushing God away. He is actually the only being who can take your pain, ease it some, and use it for good. Always remember Genesis 50:20, and always turn to the great comforter and healer. You are made in His image. You are His child. You can go to him with anything, your situations will never stop His love for you. 

                                          May God's love and peace

                                                    Be with you all,

                                                          Christie

                                                    "God's Princess "