Raised in a devout Christian home, Beverly enters an unfamiliar environment when she begins high school in the inner city of Cleveland, Ohio. Faced with drugs and violence, she makes the decision to follow the crowd against the teachings of her faith, and give up her virginity to a drug dealer she barely knew. Little did she realize this one decision would spark a series of events leading to inconceivable pain.
Confessions of a Church Girl outlines the true story of a young woman's secret five-year struggle with sexual addiction. Faced with infection and rape, she races to uncover the truth about her faith, and hear the voice of the God. This emotional, yet empowering story is an autobiographic journey entailing love, lies, sex, and drugs, teaching one young woman the true meaning of forgiveness.
Excerpt
I placed this chapter here on purpose. It's not that it fits into the chronological order of things; in fact it does not go here at all. I just want to tell you this story, not for you to figure out who did this to me, but to recognize the significance of it in this book. These confessions…
Though not at all like the rest, still need to be acknowledged. I have never told this story before, so consider yourself, whatever blessed soul is reading this chapter at this moment, the very first person I have told.
There is a lot to say for someone like me who had sex just because. But one thing that cannot and should not be said is that I wanted to have sex all the time. I didn't; there were times when I just wanted to be loved, held, and caressed.
I had been dating him for a few weeks, but had known him a few years. Nobody really knew we were seeing each other except a few close girlfriends. But even they set the whole relationship aside, knowing it would not last. Still I loved him; I loved him desperately. Now I sit and think the reason for the sudden desperation to be in love at only 19 years old is because I had not felt that in so long. It had, for many months, simply been about sex.
But now I had love. Even though he never said he loved me back, I didn't need him to. Lying beside me in bed was enough for me to feel loved, and giving him sex was enough for him to stay around.
It was very late at night when he finally arrived. He had been drinking as usual, and when I answered the door he picked me up and swung me around.
"Hey baby!"
"Hey," I replied without enthusiasm, and got down from his arms. It was already after 1:00am and he knew I had church in the morning.
"Aw, don't be mad. Are you mad? Don't be mad."
I hate drunken gibberish. I walked back into the bedroom and curled up in my covers. After a quick stop in the kitchen for some water, he followed after me, slipping out of his clothes on the way. He slithered into the covers and flipped me over onto my back.
"Get off of me," I said.
"Why? I know you want it, you always do."
He was right. There had never been a time when he wanted to have sex that I didn't cheerfully oblige. My open legs had always been a place where he was welcome, any time of day, wherever we were. But I just wanted to sleep now.
"I'm tired," I said softly.
"Tired! You're not tired! It's only 1:30!"
"Ok, then I have a headache, or I'm on my period, or my stomach hurts, or I just don't want to!!"
By this point I had gotten frustrated that a simple no didn't work. Even though I didn't have a headache, and I wasn't on my period, the fact remained that I did not want to have sex. I tried to roll over under his heavy body, but I couldn't move.
"Get off of me," I said again.
He still didn't move, just looked at me with this confused, angry, drunken look. I started to get mad, madder than I had been at first.
"Move!" I yelled.
Then something happened. He moved. Kind of surprised that it only took me yelling to make him do what I initially asked, I started to get out of the bed. As I kicked my legs from under the covers and swung them around to the floor, I felt his hand grab me around my neck.
In one swift movement, he pulled me backward onto the bed by my neck, and threw me toward the wall nearby. Hitting my head hard, I literally saw stars in the dark bedroom. I screamed, "Stop!", but that made him more excited to go. Grabbing me by both arms, he flung me from the wall onto my back. I was so confused; so upset. Although I had an idea what was going on, I could not fathom how, why this man that I loved could do this to me. This man that I knew, not a stranger, could hurt me this way.
He climbed back on top of me, this time, naked. I only slept in a T-shirt and underwear, and he ripped off my panties with one hand.
I was fighting him the whole time. He was a tall, big man, and I was only 120 lbs. But I gave it all I had; I was not going down easy. But after awhile, as I felt him entering my body, I gave up.
Then, pain.. So much pain.
I had been sexually involved with this man many times, but the force behind which this time was manifested caused so much pain. I began to bleed, and he didn't stop. Some animalistic nature had come over him.
I lay on the bed underneath him and cried. Cried because of the pain; inside my body, my head constantly hitting the wall, the bruises on my arms, neck, and back.
But most of all I cried because of the pain of not having a say over my body. This had been taken from me; ripped from my spirit. If the sanctity of sex meant nothing to me before this point, it definitely meant a lot less now.
Clenching my knees and toes, I prayed to God that he would stop. I made fists in the sheets around me, and watched as the blood from the stress on my vagina stained the bed. I cried silently, and tasted the sweaty, salty tears that ran to my lips.
After about 30 minutes, it was finally over. I watched as he got up, and looked at the sheets.
"You need to clean up," he said as he walked to the bathroom to urinate.
I lay in the same spot, same position I had been in. I could not move, although I wanted to run, scream, and cry out for help. But I didn't. I could not feel anything below my belly, it had all went numb. Handprints from him holding me down had formed around my waist, and everything hurt.
He returned from the bathroom without flushing, put his boxers back on, climbed into the bed, and fell asleep. I stared at the ceiling; no thoughts, no tears. Just silence.
"How could you let him do this to me," I inquired silently of God, still lying in the bed. Almost as soon as the thought came, I felt stupid for asking. There was no point in blaming God; He was probably just as upset as I was. I had been in church long enough to know the difference between good and evil, and what he had done was pure evil; God had nothing to do with it.
The numbness soon turned into achy, stinging pain and I got onto my feet, grabbed my pillow, and limped into the bathroom. It was the only room with a working lock on the door. Shutting the door, I placed the pillow on the cold tile between the toilet and sink. Bending slowly to rest on the floor, I rolled onto my side in the fetal position. I imagined myself cradled in the arms of God; being comforted by Him. I imagined Him holding me, kissing me on the cheek and smiling. I closed my eyes and focused on repeating the only words that came to my mind.
"He that dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say unto the Lord He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Him will I trust…"
Sunday, I went to church.
Professional Reviews
Goose Bumps
I just finished your book which took me just a couple days to read with every spare moment I had. I still have goose bumps and tears in my eyes. I hope your book reaches many and you continue to be blessed in your life. I look forward to the sequel. I feel as though I know you. Throughout the book I hurt for you, I laughed with you and I cried with you and rejoiced. You opened an honest world to me. I believe you to be an amazing woman.
Must Read
This book is a must read for this generation and all ages. It touches the inner life and heart of what I believe today's young people in and out of the church are going through. I used it to reach my radio audience for I felt parents, grandparents, teens and youth needed to hear from one of their own. Thank God for Beverly.
The bold truth of the Confessions of a Church Girl
I think that she is very bold and courageous for coming forth and sharing her story. Whether people want to believe it or not there are many people who are similar to her in today's churches. People tend to think that because you go to church that you don't suffer or go through as much hard times as some one who is not saved, but that just not true. Her books is an example of that, and I think that more people should commend her and not attack her. For I think that she not only told the truth about the environment, and what some people in the church experience, but she also opened up a door to our youth. Showing us how ease it is for our youth to get swallowed up by society's mordern out look on life and sex.
And it is with that in mind that I thank the young lady who wrote this book for she is an example for many who have or are going through what she went through that they still can make like she did with the help of God!
From the Caribbean Sea to Machu Picchu in Peru, and from birds to flowers and butterflies, Reflections and Treasured Wonders offers a collection of images gathered from around the world.
