I started stripping when my best friend in college suggested it for her 21st birthday. What seemed like an exhilarating adventure of girls-gone-wild quickly became a host of lies and destruction from the pit of hell.
Groping eyes and hands became an eerie sense of familiarity that crept up from experiences felt too many times past. I owned a false sense of power that preyed on the perversion of darkness. I exuded fantasy behind a mask that hid shame, desperation, loneliness, and a low sense of self-worth… utter brokenness. All I wanted was to be loved.
I cried out to God when I couldn’t pry myself from going in and out of dancing over the next six years. It was a horrific lure of lust and greed. I realized I couldn’t do it on my own when He took everything I thought I had successfully achieved away. He had finally gotten my attention.
I stopped rebelling and surrendered to God when He called me to the water. He met me on the sandy shores of Santa Monica and spoke of life. He promised I would no longer thirst nor hunger. As the true and living water, Jesus Christ would be my all in all.
I was lost, confused, and without hope. I was walking dead. The works of the Lord in my healing journey and road to recovery have been supernatural. As I give, through the work of Treasures, I am also being given to. Although Treasures didn’t find me at the club, it helped me to stay out of them–never to return. And now I am able to help others do the same.