My Name is Rose

Hello! My name is Rose. I was born as Rachel Lauren Williams. My life has changed and this is how.

All good stories begin with "once upon a time", but not mine. Mine starts with an argument. While my mother was in labor, she and my father argued about what to watch. I know it sounds kind of dumb, but this was the beginning to my troubled childhood. That argument set the course of my entire life that was filled with strife and manipulation.

I was born in Knoxville, Tennessee, on the foothills of the beautiful Smoky Mountains. My father was studying to become a pastor at Clear Creek Bible College. My mother was a stay-at-home mom. I had five siblings, an older sister and brother, a younger brother, and two younger sisters who were born much later.

I loved living on Clear Creek's campus. In the winter, we made an igloo with our neighbors. In the summer, we would play on the hot, metal slide that would give us blisters as we slid down. We would spin the merry-go-round so fast we would feel like puking. I only have good memories there.

We later moved back to Knoxville. That was where I first experienced abuse at 3 years old. We moved constantly because, once someone got suspicious that we were abused, my father would make up some excuse as to why we had to leave and we would move again. He would say things like "the church turned its back on us" or "the landlord stole our money". He never kept a steady job. My mother refused to work.

By the time I was 16 years old, I had moved 22 times and slept in our 15-passenger van several times.

I was forced to give every paycheck to my father but, for a while, I was able to keep money hidden to feed my younger siblings. Eventually, my father found out and took that money too. I have no idea where that money went, because our power was cut several times.

When I was 15, we met this wonderful pastor and family who let us live in their camper while we were homeless, twice for extended periods of time. They became my parents without realizing it. They didn't know about the abuse but they took care of us. The church was different than any other church I had been a part of. They were loving and wanted to be involved in my life. It amazed me.

I was abused until I was 20 years old. I was kicked out because I threatened to tell the truth of the abuse. My parents kicked me out and tried to spread rumors about me being in sin. My pastors family didn't buy it and let me move back in with them. I was in a terrible car accident a few months later and it triggered pseudo-seizures, nightmares, and flashbacks. That was how they found out about the abuse.

I began talking to the police while I worked full time. I decided I didn't want to share my abuser's name. I felt owned by him. On Christmas, my pastor gave me adoption papers so I could carry a name of freedom and safety.

A couple months later, I had a panic attack at work. When I calmed down, my coworker told me I made her think of a rose. She didn't say why, but I realized that roses can withstand summer storms. They always live. That is what I was doing. Surviving. Living. I decided that would become my name. I asked my new parents to give me a second middle name and they chose Maddie after Dad's grandmother. I decided to keep the name Rachel for my sisters' sake.

I guess to sum up this post I will close with something I wrote on March 17th, 2020, two years after I was freed.

"Two years since I left my abuser, or rather was pushed away.

The fear that my babies, who I was forced to leave behind, are being abused still cripples me.

I long for them to be back in my arms. I want them safe. I came forward to free them.

Nothing matters much more to me. I may never see them again. In two years, I have seen the girls I raised a total of five times. I miss them dearly.

After two years, I thought I would be free. I feel as though he holds me captive more than ever. He controls my sleep. He controls my eating habits, I feel guilty if I eat two meals a day.

He controls my physical health. After years of abuse your body begins to crumble.

He controls my sanity. Flashbacks are a constant battle. Depression is a flesh eating monster.

I live in fear that he will show up behind me and attack me.

But I have been free for two years. I have grown a lot.

I got my driver’s license, something he told me I would never have.

I bought a car, I went on missions, I rescued a dog.

I was baptized. I have a family. I have a new name.

I am an entirely different person than I was two year ago. He no longer controls my growth.

Storms come and I feel defeated, but Christ calms them in His time and has victory.

Even though I feel that I am in my abuser’s control sometimes, I am in Christ.

He is making me new.

I am no longer Rachel Lauren Williams. I don’t live under my abusers name.

My name is Rachel Maddie Rose Douglas and I am two years free."