Memoir of the Redeemed

By Becky Meyer

This story is a reminder that even in the deapths of your despair there is always hope, and you're never alone. This is a conversion story to Christ in it's most raw form. **Graphic content**

• Language: English
• Publisher: Becky Meyer
• Release date: Mar 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476275789

Becky Meyer

23 year old college graduate currently living in Salt Lake City, UT with my sister. I am a communication assistant for the deaf and hard of hearing by day, and dreamer by night. I am a member of the LDS church and my faith is the most valuable thing in my life. Future goals include exploring the west, getting married in the Temple, and having children.

Book preview

Chapter 2

It wasn’t until my first week of college, three weeks after we had broken up, until I realized what had happened to me was rape. I'd been in a denial and stupor until it hit me. At my college all incoming freshman had to take three seminars in order to get overnight guest privileges for the year. I took the first two, they was fine. The third was about sexual abuse. These two speakers came and spoke to everyone about what constitutes abuse, statistics, and the different kinds of rape. It was then as they were speaking in a comedic fashion about the above mentioned subjects when I started to cry uncontrollably.

After walking out of the conference I thought about it, tried to rationalize it and explain the situation away like I was making it up. It couldn’t have possibly have been rape. That evil word you associate with murderers and strangers, certainly not a boyfriend whom I trusted. They called it date rape.

It was about this time when I started getting the flashbacks. All day, all night, I would replay what had happened over and over in my mind to try and tell myself I was making it up. I tried to rationalize that I had let him do it; I had let him rape me, by telling him at first it was okay to touch me. The fact that I had said no and yelled at him to stop…it still didn’t feel like rape. He was caught up in the moment and didn’t want to stop, even though he saw the effect on me. He didn’t care, and I kept thinking I should’ve done more. Slapped him, punched him, kicked him, and maybe he would’ve stopped. The pushing I did wasn’t enough. I would have killed him in that moment if I had known the effect it would have on me for the rest of my life. How that little moment of his pleasure and him causing me so much pain against my will would lead to all the rest of the stuff I have done