I used to hide my past—teen pregnancy, broken relationships, self-hate. I wore shame like a second skin, convinced that if people saw the real me, they’d turn away. I smiled on the outside, but inside I was drowning in regret.
But when I found Christ, He didn’t just forgive me—He gave me purpose.
It happened in the quiet of a small Bible study. I wasn’t even supposed to be there. A friend had begged me to come, and I finally gave in. I sat in the back, arms crossed, heart guarded. The leader spoke about the woman at the well—how Jesus saw her, knew her past, and still offered her living water.
I wept.
For the first time, I realized God wasn’t repelled by my story. He was redeeming it.
I began to heal. Slowly. I let go of the lies that said I was unworthy, unlovable, broken beyond repair. I started journaling, praying, and reading Scripture—not to earn forgiveness, but to understand the love I’d already been given.
And then, something unexpected happened.
A teenage girl at church confided in me. She was scared, pregnant, and convinced her life was over. I saw myself in her eyes. I didn’t offer clichés or judgment. I told her the truth: “You are not your mistake. You are not alone. God still has a plan for you.”
That conversation lit a fire in me.
Now, I mentor girls who feel lost, ashamed, and forgotten. Girls who think their story disqualifies them. I sit with them in their pain, share my own journey, and point them to the One who never turns away.
We cry. We laugh. We pray. And together, we rise.
My past no longer defines me—it equips me. What once brought me shame now brings others hope. I’ve seen God turn ashes into beauty, scars into testimonies, and brokenness into ministry.
I used to hide. Now I stand.
Because when Christ found me, He didn’t just clean me up—He called me out. He gave me a voice, a mission, a purpose.
And every time I see a girl lift her head, believe she’s worthy, and take her first step toward healing, I whisper, “This is why.”
From shame to purpose. That’s the power of grace.
