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I Rose from the Ashes
I Rose from the Ashes
I Rose from the Ashes
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I Rose from the Ashes

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As a little girl, I remember being told, "Why don't you kill yourself-you are just taking air from someone who deserves it." That was my mother who said that. She reminded me almost daily how stupid I was, that she hated me, and how no one wanted me.

After hearing those things and being passed around on a constant basis to live with strangers along with abuse from her, I started to believe what I was told. My mother then told me that I was not her daughter. I never knew my grandmother or grandfather, aunts, uncles, cousins, or anyone who was part of my family. I cried a lot and trusted no one.

As years went by, I tried to buy friendships and love-of course, it didn't work. I became a rug mat for everyone. I was lied to, used, abused, and taken for granted. At work, I did way more than what the job required without compensation for it. I had very low self-esteem.

Then something changed when I had my sons.

I became the mother, father, and anything or anyone my sons needed. We had each other.

As time went on, I started learning and loving myself.

Through our lives, our experiences shape who we are. Whether it is something said or actions taken (or not) by you or someone else, it does affect lives. With all of the outside influences defining us, sometimes we lose sight of who we are.

Just like a fingerprint that only applies to one person, you are unique! There is not even one person just like you! You have your own likes, dislikes, dreams, and gifts. The world looks at you from the outside in-the trick is for you to know yourself from the inside out!

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 4, 2021
ISBN9781098091736
I Rose from the Ashes

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    Book preview

    I Rose from the Ashes - Carla Shafer

    cover.jpg

    I Rose from the Ashes

    Carla Shafer

    Copyright © 2021 by Carla Shafer

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

    Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

    832 Park Avenue

    Meadville, PA 16335

    www.christianfaithpublishing.com

    Printed in the United States of America

    Table of Contents

    My Family

    I Choose

    My Story

    I wrote this book to give inspiration to all of those who have struggled in their lives and have sought to overcome obstacles.

    The few people who know me well have told me I should write a book. This is a book of healing, growing, and finding what was lost—me.

    We are more powerful than we know.

    We always have a choice.

    And remember, although the journey may be long, the destination is what matters.

    This is a true story.

    My Family

    I have three sisters, two older than me and one younger (I also have a stepsister and brother, but I don’t know them very well). My mother was a very dictatorial, very controlling, abusive person. My father was a decent man but was very nonconfrontational. He was very afraid of my mother.

    We didn’t have a lot, but we got by okay.

    I was a pretty small girl; my sisters were as well. Usually you would think of a house full of children to have running through the house, playing, sibling rivalry, complaints to parents, and others. You get the picture. Not in our house. Our house had no children running around, no sibling rivalry, or any of the other things. My sisters and I were always very quiet. We were grateful to be able to go in our room and stay there. There were no complaints to parents or anything else a child would do. We never fought between each other. It was anything but normal. We all slept in the same room when we were little. We had four cots in the same room (smaller than twin beds).

    I was a withdrawn child. I never asked for anything. My sisters were the same way. Even when we went to our room, we would almost whisper because we did not want to be heard. If we had to go to the bathroom,

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