"I'm out in the waves, I'm hoping and praying, please let this wind blow me home. Night after night there's an empty horizon, and my God do I feel so alone. Sometimes life, but most times I feel just like a sailboat."

Ben Rector's words portray the feelings that we often experience. Waves of doubt, deceit and disappointment crash over us and all we want is that feeling of safety and comfort that home brings. Yet we are stuck far away from security and there does not seem to be any evidence of getting back to that place anytime soon. In those times, we feel alone, like there is no one else in the world who has experienced what we have, like we do not belong. We are simply floating, praying we don't sink.

I've been there. I've felt the waves storm around me. I've felt the loneliness. And I have the scars to show it. When I was young, I experienced the trap of acting in ways that I knew were wrong for the chance to spend time with people I love. For the time they played with me, I had to allow them surface level violation of myself. It was a give and take relationship. However, because I was so young, I did not understand all the implications of what was happening. Once I finally did, I no longer agreed to their conditions. I moved on with my life and pretended it never happened. It was not until later that I started to realize the implications this experience had in my life. Even still, it was easy to forgive them because I knew their character beyond their actions.

But I wasn't allowed to leave it in the past. The summer of my sophomore year of high school, it happened again. However, this time was different. This time, I knew from the start it was wrong and I did not agree to it. This time, it was a family friend who had watched me grow up. This time, I was terrified. He was very gentle, and that's why I didn't realize what he was doing at first. When I finally woke up from the shock coursing through me I stopped him and he left. One thing that stuck with me (and made the whole situation worse) was that before he left he asked for my forgiveness and told me he would pray about what he had done. What? You will pray about it? All I could think of was he was going home to his wife and seven children. My parents could never know.

I kept this experience with me for a year and a half, and during that time I dealt with it -- or tried to. I spent many early mornings in intercession trying to understand what happened, why it happened, why that happens to anyone. I never got a clear answer from God proclaiming some powerful message of truth that would save me from this tragedy, except for the words "I love you." Those three words gave me a sense of certain in the midst of all my questions. I finally told my parents over a year after it happened and they reacted as I expected. Shocked, sad and disappointed. But once again those three words were uttered to me and reassured me of my place in their life.

Yet I could not get over this feeling of guilt. This man that had been their close friend for so many years was suddenly seen as a broken person who had tried to tear down their daughter. I felt as though it was my fault, that I had somehow made him think he was allowed to do what he did. I had ruined their friendship. After going to therapy for a short time, I was able to come to terms that this was not something I could fix, nor something that I could have anticipated and prohibited.

You may ask why I am telling you this. I feel like it's time. I'm done allowing this circumstance to be the dictator of my life. Our pasts do not define us. Going through hard situations do change us, yes, but they are not our identity and they are not who we are. We have to realize that these times do not determine who we really are, because we are so much more than one incident in our entire lives. However, as strangely awful as it sounds, we can use these times to our advantage. From going through trials, I have changed. I am not the same girl as I was before this happened. But I now have a drive for my life. I now know that I want to help people who are hurting. Knowing the pain and hardships of going through it alone, I want to be there to support them in dealing with their pain but not letting it overcome them.

It is when we are able to let go of these hard times and move forward with our lives that we are truly free. I definitely still struggle with this on a daily basis. For as long as I can remember (and even now) I felt like I had no right to tell my story or to say I have pain because others have gone through things that are a lot worse than what I have experienced. But that is a lie! When I feel the waves swirling around me, I run to the place (or, rather, the Person) where my identity is found. God has been my constant throughout my life, throughout all of my pains dealing with my encounters as a child and a teen. He reminds me that I am valued. I have worth. I have His love.

And so do you. Your pain is not all you are; it does not determine your life. Sure, it will always be a part of you but it is up to you to decide how much and in what ways. You will heal and you will trust again. But you do not have to go through it alone. Telling people is hard, but it is a doorway for you to walk through towards the place of being free. Beyond that, however, God holds you in His arms. He loves you in the deepest and truest meaning of the word and He desires to walk with you while you are handling the repercussions of your circumstances.

So don't shut the world out, don't push everything down. Deal with the pain, guilt, or shame. But let God hold your hand in the process. You are not just a lone sailboat floating away from the horizon.