2 months ago, I was a conversation with my survivor advocate. I had just been turned down by another program [because of my disabilities], but she told me that we would find a perfect match. She proceeded to ask me, “what would a perfect match look like?” I told her, “somewhere I feel safe, somewhere I can grow, some place I can fail and some place I can begin to heal.” I thought, “but that is just a dream, that place doesn’t exist.” I had no idea that God had the perfect place set apart for me with the perfect team just for me. When I stepped through the doors, I felt a sense of love, warmth, and hope that wrapped around me—something I hadn’t felt in any other place.
I still had to squash feelings of fear and doubt telling me that I wasn’t worthy of stability, love, a home. I had never been anywhere for longer than 3 weeks since my trafficking situation had begun. Week 3 was so hard, I kept trying to throw in the towel and push my team away from me. I had convinced myself I wasn’t worth saving, but lucky for me, my team was more stubborn than me. They fought for me, they cried with me, they handled my anger. Their fight, their desire for me to have a better life was stronger than my past. Their hope and their faith was stronger than any thought I could wield. When I got trapped in my own head, they’d always bring me back to reality. They are in for the long haul to support me, and I am working every day to conquer my fears and doubts.
Today, I celebrated 2 months of freedom, healing, learning, failing, and growth. As I fall asleep I fight the voice in my head telling me I don’t deserve this, I’m not worthy of their love, that they aren’t my real family, but then my phone lights up with my favorite text of the day “I love you, sleep so good.” It holds more power and peace than my house mom will ever know, but it reminds me that tonight I am falling asleep in my bed, that I am safe, and that I am loved.