A New Name A New Name
By Sandra Aslesen
After numerous episodes of childhood sexual abuse, I had no ideawho I was. A total lack of personal boundaries led me into eightyears of lesbian relationships and extreme emotional dependency.
My childhood was marked by repeated traumas. I was separated frommy mother at birth due to jaundice, a reaction to a blood Rh-factorproblem. When I was thirteen months old, I was scalded with coffee.Second- and third-degree burns covered over sixty percent of my body.
Though I have no conscious memory of the event, that same year Iwitnessed my 13-year-old brother accidently shoot and kill my11-year-old brother. Within five years of my birth, three of mysiblings had died.
At age seven, I was hospitalized for stress-related ulcers,pneumonia, and other medical problems. Over the next six years, I washospitalized at least once a year for pneumonia. The hospital was theonly secure environment I can remember while growing up.
My father was a passive, non-abusive alcoholic. My mother avoidedher own pain by being very talkative, but only on surface issues. Wewere a household of emotionally-frozen people. There were no rules orboundaries placed upon me by either parent. “Just let us know whereyou are and what you want to do,” was all I heard.
Sexual abuse and incest occurred in my life numerous times. Onebrother abused me a couple of times when I was only four and fiveyears old. Later in childhood, I was molested by three other peopleon separate occasions. All these molestations, coupled with the shameof having a leering uncle who always made me feel naked, left me witha rather warped perception of sex. My basic coping method was to vieweveryone as genderless; I also avoided men as much as possible.
“I would never hurt you,” my Dad used to say, which I interpretedto mean that he would not force me into an incestuous relationship.In that sense, Dad never “hurt me” but I never remember being hugged,affirmed or told “I love you.” After his eventual death in 1985, itseemed like he had never lived or had any impact on my life at all.
From the time I was very young, I looked after myself. I simplydidn’t know of any other option. Ironically, the brother who molestedme was the only family member who said he would defend me.
Growing up, I didn’t feel attracted to either men or women. Idated a couple of guys, but didn’t become emotionally involved. Therelationships were strictly platonic.
When I was 18, I rented a room in the house of one of myprofessors. Another guy living there had just broken up with hisgirlfriend. He began to initiate a relationship with me, but I waskeenly aware that he just wanted an “interim fix” while hisgirlfriend got over her anger.
This guy was not subtle in his invitations. “Hey, Sandy,” he askedme, “would you like to make love?” I kept declining, but finally lethim kiss me. Unexpectedly, I felt myself powerfully responding tohim. Then, suddenly, came the turnoff. “I gotcha,” he murmured, andmy heart turned as cold as an ice-covered rock.
I will not yield control any further, I thought. This man will notwin. I will not be used and then discarded! I slammed the door on myemotional and physical response and left the room and therelationship.
Less than a year later, my affections became fixated on women. Mylesbian activities began as an emotional dependency with agirlfriend, and led to sexual relationships with numerous women overa period of eight years.
My struggles with emotional dependency centered on two factors: Adeep longing to be protected, and having no sense of personalboundaries, the latter stemming from my alcoholic family and thesexual abuse of my youth.
I became a Christian in the fall of 1983, but my “crash and burn”cycle of emotional dependency continued to repeat itself for the nextfive years. By then I realized this cycle wouldn’t be broken withouta major catalyst.
I still had not accepted the fact that homosexuality was an issuein my life. I merely considered myself an opportunist. If I happenedto fall in love with a woman, well, that’s just the way it was. Whatbothered me most wasn’t the sin cycle itself, but that it keptblocking my walk with God. I desperately wanted to know Him, but Icouldn’t see any possible escape from my sinful patterns.
Then, with perfect timing and incredible love, God set up a”divine appointment” when the time was ripe for me to begin facing mylesbianism.
In July 1988, I saw an old acquaintance from college who had movedaway a couple of years earlier. He told me about his past struggleswith homosexuality and emotional dependency, and what the Lord haddone through Love In Action’s live-in program.
I want that, too, I thought, knowing that I desperately needed astructured situation to help me quit running. Within a few weeks I’dapplied to Love In Action.
However, by the fall of that year, I was out of fellowship andmaking many wrong choices, based on a horrible “last fling”mentality. My last six weeks before moving to California turned intoone long chain of sin. It was Satan’s last-ditch attempt to keep mein bondage.
In great denial and rebellion, I arrived in San Rafael on January1, 1989. I was completely shut down emotionally but still the healingprocess began. By now, Jesus had been my Savior five years. I waswell-grounded in His word and had ample knowledge about Him, but Hewas still not in control of my life.
At our opening house retreat, a gifted leader prayed over each oneof us. I was very afraid and skeptical of charismatic activity, buthis words pierced my heart.
“You are like a wild black stallion,” he told me, “strong andpowerful, but needing to be made gentle and tamed. God will changeyour fighting into submission, so that at His slightest whisper, youwill obey.” This man knew my deep desire for total obedience to theLord. I was amazed.
A month later I went to an all-church women’s retreat held in theredwood forest of Northern California. There my life irrevocablychanged, as God birthed in me the reality of our theme song:
- I will change your name, you shall no longer be called
- Wounded, outcast, lonely, and afraid.
- I will change your name, your new name shall be:
- Confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one,
- Faithfulness, friend of God, one who seeks My face.*
On a drizzly, chilly Saturday in the stump of a burned-out redwoodtree, I yielded my whole heart to God. He became my Lord; I knewthere was no turning back. He promised to change my name from”rebellious” to “yielded,” and turn my inner desert to a lush,verdant garden.
As my memorial to this event, I began to use my full name fromthat day on. Sandy became Sandra. I dropped all abbreviations andnicknames. My “official” signature went from a scrawled set ofimpersonal initials to the fullness of my whole name, an indicationof God replacing the cheap imitations in my life with His truth andreality. From that point on, my life began to change significantly.
God gave me a key to unlock my emotions: singing. I love to sing,so He showed me that if I would sing out my hurts and feelings, theycould come to the surface and be healed.
Through the vehicle of song I brought up and experienced angertoward my parents’ injustices for the very first time. A veritablestorm of emotions came bursting forth.
Then, in the quiet aftermath, God’s love broke into my heart asnever before. I had a wonderful sense of being a newborn baby,cradled in her Daddy’s arms. I felt warm and secure, and looked up tosee His eyes of love for the very first time.
Later I ran across a field with outstretched arms, shouting andlaughing in my newfound discovery. “Daddy loves me! My Daddy lovesme!” I yelled over and over again, my heart bursting with joy.
The next morning God confirmed that my hungry, desperate quest tobe known was ended. He spoke to me through a verse I had readcountless times: “Oh Lord, Thou hast searched me and known me” (Ps139:1, NASB).
God was creating in me a new sense of identity. Throughout mylife, my personhood had been vague; I had no sense of self orboundaries. I didn’t know where I stopped and someone else began.What I’d done since childhood was simply transfer my emotionaldependency from person to person. They weren’t separate relationshipsbut more like one single “serial dependency.”
Sometimes these friendships had taken on subtle, civilized forms,giving the illusion of “normal” relationships, when actually theyjust kept growing uglier and stronger.
Once I could see the whole picture, God asked me to renounce myidentity of being an idolatrous, emotionally-dependent person. I wasterrified. How can I give up what little identity I have, I wondered,no matter how wrong or false that identity is? It meant being laidbare before the Lord and trusting Him to build a true identity in me,revealing the woman He created.
As I yielded, I gained an awesome sense of freedom from oldthought patterns. It was really fun getting to know myself for thevery first time. My new identity developed gradually. While God waspreparing me to renounce the lies, simultaneously He built up my newsense of self.
Interestingly, as my life and identity came into sharper focus, sodid the healing process. What was vast and unknown in 1989 hasnarrowed down to two key issues: a need for boundaries, and a needfor protection.
Now I’m much more prepared to face these old issues. My securityin Christ has increased dramatically. I still face the challenge offully dealing with past sexual abuse and my problem with trust,especially toward men.
But the Lord is walking me through these issues, one step at atime. A new beginning came in the fall of 1989, when I became friendswith a man at my church. What began as a casual friendship graduallydeepened into a desire for lifelong commitment.
On November 16, 1991, my name changed again, this time from SandraSpencer to Sandra Aslesen. My wedding marked another miracle, one ofthe most exciting days of my life! Now I continue the healing processwhile walking side-by-side with Steve, my life companion and friend.
As I continue to obey God’s loving guidance, my relationship withHim grows sweeter and deeper. That is what healing is all about-thefreedom to receive His love and then share it with others.
By far the greatest reward of all is getting to know God, andbecoming a reflection of His love, redemption, and restoration. Idelight daily in the new name and identity He has given to me.
Sandra,her husband, Steve, and her daughter, Claire, aremembers of Church of the Open Door in San Rafael, CA. This testimonyis adapted from Out of Egypt: Leaving Lesbianism Behind by JeanetteHoward (Monarch Publications). Copyright c 1991 by Jeanette Howard.Used by permission. Distributed by Love In Action, PO Box 753307,Memphis, TN 38175-3307; 901/542-0250