Shanika Alphabet

Faith is why I am here, and faith is why I made it through!

Growing up in church, we are told to trust God, God will never put more on you than you can bare.

For the very first time in my life, I questioned God and his love for me. I honestly felt like he hated me and wanted to punish me for what I had done in my past. 

Who would have thought that a simple movie night would have changed my life forever. December 2011, I went on a date with a gentleman and he forcefully raped me. 

Before I went on this date, I remember joking with my mom saying, “if anything happens to me, here is the address.” I was joking, not knowing that this would be the night my life would completely change. As I entered his living room I sat on his couch, he informed me that his tv was broken and that we would have to watch the movie in his bedroom. I know a lot of you are thinking that should have been a sign, but I trusted this guy, so I was cool, no red flags for me at all. The gentlemen went to take a shower while I sat on the edge of his bed and began watching a movie. Once he returned to the room, he forcefully and aggressively started to take my clothes off.  I fought him, but the more I fought the more forceful he became; using his legs and arms to pin me down so I couldn’t fight back. He then began raping me. I was terrified, screaming, and fighting for my life. This by far was the hardest thing I have ever gone through. 

I fought until I was free… When I finally got away, I ran out of his bedroom, picked up my shoes, and sprinted out his door screaming to the top of my lungs. I ran so fast I busted my head on my car door. I was enraged, angry and confused. I remember driving, not sure of what to do or where to go, I drove all the way home. I was afraid to get out of my car, so I called my sister to explain what happened. She immediately called the police. The police went to his apartment, but he was gone. The police began questioning me and writing down my statement. In the midst of me writing my statement and telling the officers what happened, the only female officer present said, “it’s hard to believe that a 30 year old is not sexually active.” After an hour of questioning, one of the police officers took me to their special victim clinic, where they performed several exams. The examining nurse then came in and instructed me take several pills that prevents STDs. After sitting there waiting, the doctor came in the room and verified to the officers that I had indeed been raped. The nurse explained to me that I needed to attend some type of counseling and that I needed to come for testing every three months for the next 3 years. “The test for the next three years is to ensure that you’re clear of AIDS and any other type of diseases, Exclaimed the nurse. Upon my next visit to the clinic, the nurse came in and gave me the most disturbing news ever, “Ms. Alphabet, do you know that you are pregnant?” My heart immediately dropped, and my stomach turned in knots! My thoughts were filled with every how and why question. I couldn’t believe that I was pregnant by a rapist. The nurse was still speaking to me but, her voice slowly began to fade as my inner thoughts and anger possessed all my being. I could only hear mutters as my thought process had taken me to a sunken place. I was already angry but after she delivered that news, I was enraged. So many thoughts, so many feelings, and so few words… I was distraught. I was afraid, ashamed, embarrassed and disappointed. I instantly began blaming myself. Before leaving the clinic, the nurse asked me what I wanted to do? Crying uncontrollably, I knew deep down inside that I  could not have a baby by someone who force life inside of me. I knew that I couldn’t give birth to my child knowing that the father violated me and ruined my life. With a deep sigh, I said,” I just can’t! The very next day, I was lying on a table in a very cold room, preparing to have an abortion. The abortion process was very painful and devasting. I cried for days, months and years. I couldn’t eat or sleep; I could barely close my eyes without replaying the rape over and over in my head. I could hear babies crying in my dreams and would constantly have nightmares of that night. Day by day I was losing my mind. I felt myself falling into a deep depression. I didn’t leave my house for days, afraid of seeing that predator again. I isolated myself from family and friends. I dropped out of school, stopped working and quit living life. I was not ready to face my truth or speak about being raped. I hated myself. I pondered night after night wondering if I made the right decisions. There were so many days I just wanted to die. 

One night, I was sitting on the couch praying and asking God to help or kill me. I cried out and that very night I checked myself into Grady Hospital. Upon being checked in, they diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The doctors prescribed various types of meds and assigned me to a counselor. I had a prescription to see my counselor every day. Initially, I wasn’t ready to talk or face my inner demons. Week after week, I showed up prepared for counseling but could not find any words to speak. I sat in silence for the first four weeks and just listened to my counselor talk to me.  I was so ashamed. I felt weak, vulnerable, broken, afraid, and ashamed; all the things I never wanted to be. I let myself down. Where was the fighter, the strong girl? She no longer existed.

THE FIRST LAYER OF HEALING

It was around Session six that things began to change. The therapist firmly said to me, “if you want help you must do the work. I can’t change your situations, but we can work through them 1 day at a time. You can no longer come to my office and sit. It is time to deal and heal.”  She then told me, “if you are not ready to heal, don’t come back until you are ready.” That day, I had to make a conscious decision to break the mode and speak up. During that session, we talked, cried, and wrote down daily goals. My therapist really helped me. Not only did we deal with the rape, but she also pulled back layers of deep family wounds in my heart. After a few months of counseling, I just knew that I would feel better, instead, the fear was still there. I felt disappointed and angry and instead of me staying in Atlanta to deal with my shit, I packed my bags and moved to California.  Yes, I was running from my pain. I thought that making a move would heal my wounds, but boy was I wrong. Fear is a silent killer and it paralyzed me in Atlanta and California. I felt stuck. I was angry. I had become very bitter and numb to life. My fears, anger, frustrations, and brokenness followed my black ass right to California. I was now in a new state many miles from Atlanta, and far from my counselor. I was stuck and forced to deal with my wounded soul all alone. My emotions were getting worse and the suicidal thoughts were at an all-time high. I had no outlet. I needed help immediately. So, after a few months in California, I flew home to Atlanta to see my therapist. When I arrived at her office, she said, “come home Shanika, you weren’t ready for the move.” At that time, I realized that I had to move back and face my giants. 

After long consideration, I decided to move back to Atlanta.

THE SECOND LAYER OF HEALING 

2 years after the rape and getting back in therapy your girl was still struggling a lot.  With every session my therapist had me dealing with my fears. She constantly addressed my insecurities. I had to figure out how to love ME again. During one of my many sessions, my therapist suggested that I find a hobby or different talents that I could use to help keep me focused and relaxed.  She asked me, “what is one thing you have always dreamt of doing?” I told her that I always wanted to be a model but never pursued it because of fear. It’s so crazy how God used my tragedy and turned it into my testimony. My therapist urged me to go after my modeling career. So, with the help of some close family and friends, I was able to schedule some photoshoots and establish a portfolio. After my portfolio was finished, I began submitting my work. My very first booking was the Ricky Smiley Tv show.  After that Booking, I was contacted by a couple of magazines. I also booked roles in the movie, Bessie and Fast and Furious. I was starting to get bookings for television shows such as the Haves and Have nots, Paternity Court and a few game shows and fashion shows. I was working and on set all day and sometimes all night. You would think I was healing, but with each booking, I could only ask God, “why would you use someone like me?” I found myself masking all my hurt behind every character. I was trying to cover up how I felt inside. Acting became my life! My life was as fake as tv. I pretended to be happy. I pretended to like the person I was becoming but the truth was I didn’t know this girl. This girl wasn’t me.  I had gotten good at pretending. I was smiling during the day and depressed at night. I would post all these happy and cute modeling pictures on social media, but I was only a pill away from killing myself.

  A few months after moving back, my therapist informed me that she was being reassigned and that she would no longer be my therapist. She informed me that I would be assigned a different therapist, but I wasn’t feeling that.  I was crushed. Once again, I felt defeated and felt that I was never going to heal. When she left, I quit too. I stopped going to counseling and quit acting because I just felt like it wasn’t working out for me. 

THE THIRD LAYER OF HEALING

Now without therapy, modeling, or acting jobs, I was left to face myself.  I had to learn to lay my hurt and fears at the feet of Jesus. It was a struggle for me around holidays, birthdays, and vacation times because they were no longer were exciting to me.  It was difficult being around my nieces and nephews because all I could think about was my aborted child. I found myself lashing out in anger at the very sight of them. How could I help with other people’s children when I aborted mine? I couldn’t cope with that, so I began drinking more and more alcohol. I would drink every morning, noon and night, but that wasn’t stopping the pain. Drinking became my medicine, my way to cope. It kept my inner conversations silent. It wasn’t healing, it was hindering my life. Anger, fear and now alcohol were working hand and hand. I was allowing my inner thoughts and decisions to destroy me and my family. If you know me, I live and breathe my family. However, this rape turned me against them.  

Not only did this situation turn me against my family, but it also kept me from going places and doing things. Growing up, my friends and I would go to Lenox mall every weekend to chill, shop and hang out. This mall was my happy place. However, after this rape, it soon became the place I hated most.  Lenox is where I met my predator. Although my family and friends still love Lenox Mall, I vowed never to return. The fear in my heart was so real that the very thought of driving near the mall would immediately cause me to have an anxiety attack. I was terrified of the very place I grew up loving. 

During Christmas break of 2016, I was riding in the car with my family to do some Christmas shopping. We had been out all day and it was time to eat. Guess where everyone wanted to eat? Yep, Lenox Mall. Everyone in the car wanted to go to Lenox and eat in the food court. Tears immediately started to flow, and both my sister and brother were like it’s time to face your fear.  My brother, Wane, was angry and said, “sis you can’t be afraid forever. I will protect you if this punk is in here. I will go to jail today.” In the back of my mind, I was like hell no, but in my heart, I knew they were right. I had to face my fear and at least gain a piece of my life back. I had given him control over my life long enough. I had to put my big girl panties on, and with tears in my eyes, I walked in the food court of Lenox Mall after 5 years.  Holding on to my older brother’s arm like a little girl, I had a full-blown panic attack, but I did it. I walked in, even though I was afraid for my life. I couldn’t eat. Although we didn’t stay long, I overcame, conquered, and I took a small piece of my life back. 

THE FOURTH LAYER OF HEALING

Leaving Lenox Mall that night I felt like I conquered something great. I felt a part of my heart mend and a shadow of hope was restored. That night, I had a long conversation with my family. I was reminded of something my therapist told me, “Alphabet you can’t heal if you don’t do the work.”   I realized at that moment, my healing and future was up to me. I knew the work would be hard, but it had to be done. Nothing and no one could do the work for me. I had to face this rape and everything that came with it. It was time for me to take my life back. I started reclaiming my life back one day at a time. Although this rape caused my life to become somewhat of a whirlwind, I was determined to reclaim my life and my sanity.  I went through everything from anger, rage, abortion, suicide thoughts and attempts, isolation, insomnia, PTSD, low self-esteem, migraines, anxiety, and panic attacks. I had to silence my inner conversations. I knew that I needed to find a way to heal, but I didn’t know where to start. 

One night I called my God dad, David and told him, “Dad, I’m tired of going through this. I’m tired of allowing this situation to control my life. I’m ready to move on and get over this. I’m TIRED!’ With a calm voice, he said, “baby therapy can’t help you, running away can’t help you, and being angry isn’t going to help. They only thing that’s going to help you is that you forgive. You must allow God to heal you and deal with him.” I responded aggressively, “How?” How can you forgive someone who raped you? How can you forgive someone who impregnated you without permission? How can I forgive this jerk? He ruined my life?”

His response made me very angry. I didn’t want to hear it, but it was true. He said, “baby the reality is, the only thing this guy did wrong was raped you, everything else was your choice.  If you want to heal you have to allow God to heal you. 

I knew that he was right.  I grew up in church, so I knew the scriptures declares, “if you want God to forgive you, then you must forgive others. “I was sure that this scripture did not apply to me in this situation. Boy was I wrong! If I wanted things to change, I had to be willing and fit to heal spiritually, mentally, and physically. I had to release him in order to be released from this prison I was in. Again, I felt vulnerable and weak.  I felt like the guy who caused me the most pain and heartache, was getting off the hook. I felt like I was releasing him of his responsibilities and keeping him from owning his shit. Every day I would think about it. I would verbally say that I forgave him, but deep down I knew I didn’t mean it. The truth is I wanted him dead. I wanted him to feel what I felt that night. The act of Forgiveness is something I wrestled with for a long time. I had to remember that forgiveness is not granted to a person because they deserve it, but it’s an unnatural act of love, grace, and mercy that brings healing to the giver and the offender. The longer I chose to withhold forgiveness, the longer I kept alive the hurt and prolonged my healing. I had to acknowledge that forgiving this guy was going to be difficult, but it was something I needed to do.  I needed to free myself and trust God in the process. Forgiveness had to become a part of my daily walk. I had to identify the root of my unforgiveness. I had to learn how to trust again. I knew that this process wasn’t going to be easy, but it was necessary. I knew that I needed others to help walk me through this process.

THE FIFTH LAYER OF HEALING

After 6 years of trying to heal alone, I realized I needed help. I needed to talk this out. I was looking for an outlet and someone to talk to. Who could I confide in? Who could I entrust my life to? On my most difficult days, I leaned on my sister. Although she was suffering from a serious illness herself, she was there for me 100 percent. In August 2017, she invited me to this gym, E.F.F.E.C.T. Fitness. She was attending this gym because she began to heal physically.  She was so excited about her results; not just the physical weight loss. She was so sure that the people at this gym was God sent. The more she attended, the more she would try to convince me to attend. However, I was stuck in my ways. I turned down every invite for months. One day she laid across my bed and pleaded with me to attend, and I did. Not knowing what to expect. I went to E.F.F.E.C.T. Fitness Bootcamp for the very first time. Now Growing up, I played all kind of sports, I just knew this bootcamp was going to be a breeze. Man, this bootcamp had to be one of the toughest workouts I’ve ever experienced. As I looked around the room, I noticed a room full of people doing the work, trying to get better, but I instantly blurted out, “I don’t like this mess.” However, when your heart is filled with issues, you will always find reasons not to like something that’s beneficial for you. The entire ride home I told my sister, “I don’t like this class because they are throwing sweat everywhere and my press is destroyed.” I couldn’t deny that the workout was amazing.  I mean, I didn’t even make it home without throwing up on the side of the road. It was at this moment; God begin showing me that I was out of shape. I was out of shape physically, mentally, and emotionally. I needed a solid change, but I wasn’t ready to commit or do the work? There are three things that I wrestled with; I don’t like a lot of people, I don’t like to sweat (not even my own), and I don’t play about my hair. My favorite line to say was “it’s a press, not a perm.” My hair was my God. So, I told my sister, this is my first and last time at E.F.F.E.C.T.. I love you, but this is not going to work for me.” She insisted that I keep going because she needed the support. So, I obliged and went against what I believed to support her. I stayed in the back of the room and probably was the first person out. For the first three weeks, I just went through the motions not really expecting anything from these workouts. Even though I was getting stronger physically, I was still weak in my mind and heart. 

After a few months, I started seeing results. Things not only began to transform on the outside, but I also began noticing that internally I was transforming as well. God had begun a good work and I wanted to be faithful.  My workouts became intentional and purposeful. I started thinking about what I put in my body and the company I kept. I realized that living intentionally also meant taking back my power. I realized that if I wanted to grow, change, and evolve as a human that I had to intentionally love me over my pain. My past failures and everything else that kept me from healing could no longer keep me in bondage. 

This healing journey has not been easy. However, I had to become selfish and no longer rely on my sister as a crutch, it was time to soar alone. I began going to as many bootcamp classes that I could. I noticed that with every class I felt true victory. Working out at E.F.F.E.C.T. gave me time and space to truly work on me. The gym became a tool for healing.  I used my time at E.F.F.E.C.T. to redirect my pain, anger, frustrations. Dooley and Shayon lovingly forced me to be honest with myself. I could no longer allow this rape to be an excuse for failure. I could no longer avoid my healing. The intense trainings, especially training with the Justice League has inspired me to forgive myself. 

I now have a close circle of accountability partners who encourages me daily. I take my workouts seriously.  I remember praying to God saying, “please God, as I change and heal physically, let me change and heal emotionally and mentally. He answered my prayers. 

At the moment, I had been a member of E.F.F.E.C.T. Fitness for about 6 months and my results were unbelievable. Not only did I lose weight mentally and physically, I began to share my story and encourage people around me to Heal. For the first time in years, I was able to look at myself in the mirror. E.F.F.E.C.T. Fitness helped me find myself again. This gym restored my hope. I am thankful for my sister, Dooley, Shayon and my 10. I really appreciate you all for pushing me to greatness. Thank you for not only training my body but training my mind. E.F.F.E.C.T. Fitness saved my life!

Over the past two years, I have learned what commitment feels like. I have also come to understand the true meaning of village; I have learned to love. I vow to empower and free myself and others. I have learned to support and give without expectations. As I commit to my healing journey, I vow to help others heal as well.  

If you want something to change, you must do the damn work. In order to heal, you must be willing, ready, and fit2Heal!