God Spoke to Me. He said, "Get up and Leave.": The Power of Making Decisions
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God Spoke to Me. He said, "Get up and Leave" is an inspirational story which captures the reality of what women and children endure behind the doors of their homes.
Author Erika Romo talks about the hardships she survived during her childhood after being sexually assaulted by family members, and how these events affect
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God Spoke to Me. He said, "Get up and Leave." - Erika Lyn Romo Goff
God Spoke to Me. He said, Get up and Leave.
God Spoke to Me. He said, Get up and Leave.
Erika Lyn Romo Goff
New Degree Press
Copyright © 2023 Erika Lyn Romo Goff
All rights reserved.
God Spoke to Me. He said, Get up and Leave.
ISBN
979-8-88926-678-5 Paperback
979-8-88926-679-2 Ebook
I dedicate this book first to God because he made sure I wrote it!
Second, to my children, not only because they are my true love and inspiration but also because I want them to remember the importance of being themselves and being happy as they make their dreams come true. You are both powerful, and I’m proud of you!
Third, I dedicate this book to all women as a reminder that we can have the life we want and truly deserve, surrounded by love and happiness.
God, help me help others…
Contents
Contents
Introduction
A Stolen Childhood
San Miguel
Pepe
Bad Decisions
Asking For Help
God Takes Me to My New Adventure!
Evolving
The Expedition
Where Are We?
Acknowledgments:
Introduction
How many times have we asked ourselves, Why me?
Since I was a child, I asked myself that same question as I endured—through different phases of my life—hard and complicated situations that seemed impossible for me to confront or even survive.
For years, I struggled to find myself again and acknowledge not only who I am as a person, a woman, and a human being but also to realize and learn about my own strengths, qualities, and capabilities. With time, I understood the greatness of freeing my mind, my soul, and my essence from the emotional chains that held me captive.
I was programmed to believe my obligations and responsibilities toward others were based in the emotional control they had and wanted over me.
Then as I grew up and got emotionally stronger, things began to change as I started a personal relationship with God. He guided me and got me through moments of darkness, reminding me of who I am and the mission he confided to me, which is to make the best of my life surrounded by emotional freedom, happiness, love, stability, and peace.
I wrote this book hoping it would inspire others to know, first, that they are not alone. Second, they are marvelous people who can make things happen. Third, taking control over their lives and making decisions for their own sake and for the sake of their children is good and positive, benefiting them in every single way. Fourth and last, nothing is impossible because miracles do happen.
Chapter 1
A Stolen Childhood
What Is Wrong?
Virginia, US
November 1, 2021
For the last two years, things have been hard for everyone around the world.
COVID-19 took the lives of millions of people. Loved ones died, leaving behind fractured families. I was no exception. Back in Mexico, my father passed away a few days ago. I was sad, anxious, and extremely worried. Not because my dad left his hurting body but because of what he left behind.
I opened my eyes slowly and found myself in my bedroom, looking at the ceiling. Everything was dark around me. The curtains were closed, and between the shadows, I could see that everything in my room was a mess. Clothing was everywhere—on top of the chair, on the floor, by the furniture next to my bed, and on the bed, which meant I was lying on top of it.
As I tried to get up, I felt exhausted. My body was heavy like the air I breathed. I sat up on the bed and looked around. The first thought that came to my mind was, What is wrong with me?
I finally stood up and walked toward the mirror to see my reflection. In the mirror, I saw an extremely tired fifty-one-year-old woman with swollen eyes and a profound look of sadness. I had cried for days, and my emotions were so messed up I could feel my body reacting to the stress.
Somehow for the past few days, the sun felt painful, but I knew I needed it. I walked to the window and opened the curtains.
Sabina, one of my best friends since middle school, had texted me several times. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but I decided to call her back anyway. Otherwise, she would keep calling until she heard back from me.
Erika! I have been trying to get in touch with you for days! Are you all right?
I’m okay.
I am so sorry about the passing of your dad!
Thank you, my friend,
I responded in a whisper. Things are complicated right now.
I bet they are. Will you go to San Miguel to the funeral?
No, I’ve decided I want to stay here in Virginia.
How are things back home with your mom and siblings?
Not good. My dad’s passing has been hard on all of us. My family tried so hard to help him through COVID-19. Saving his life was their mission, and in the end, after months of having lung problems, being very weak, and having a bad fall, his body couldn’t take it anymore.
I am so sorry,
Sabina said in a soft voice. How do you feel?
Depressed, stressed, mad, and so disappointed with my dad. I can’t stop crying. I am so frustrated!
Sabina said quietly, You will be fine.
I held to her words deeply, knowing she, too, lost her father not long ago.
My dad’s departure is hard. But what he left behind broke my heart.
Erika, come to Los Cabos! Trust me that if you do, I promise your life will change forever! Get on the next airplane and come! Make it a vacation for your own sake. Send me your flight itinerary by tomorrow! Kisses, love you! Bye.
And then she hung up the phone.
As I tried to catch up with what Sabina had just said, I thought. Why not? Erika, buy the ticket now and go!
And so, I did!
A New Adventure
Los Cabos, Mexico
November 2021
I looked through the window of the airplane and was amazed by the beauty of the clouds. The captain interrupted my thoughts by announcing we would be landing in Los Cabos, San Lucas, shortly. I smiled like a little girl and thought, Yes, vacation, here I come!
While collecting my luggage, I felt the warmth in the air. It was so comforting, and I knew I was back home.
My ride waited for me at the entrance and took me through town, where I saw people walking on the streets, many stores, gas stations, and of course, taco stands everywhere.
Yes! I’m in Mexico! I looked up to the sky, thanking God for making it happen.
Sabina had tried to make me come visit for years, and she finally succeeded. We had been very close friends for more than thirty-five years. Now she hoped the adventure would help me connect with nature and life again.
As I entered Sabina’s home, I saw a beautiful tropical garden with lots of flowers, palms, and papaya trees. In the middle of the garden were two colorful Mexican houses along with a nice little swimming pool with a waterfall. At the end of the garden stood a wood terrace beyond which I could see the endless Pacific Ocean. Feeling at peace, I breathed in nature.
Sabina’s dogs greeted me. Nube was a Husky, and Lorenzo was something that looked like a Labrador, but his unusual appearance made me question if it was actually even a dog.
Both dogs seemed excited to see me and eager to get my attention. They followed me as I walked through the main house. Lovely colorful paintings hung on the wall, and an antique door served as a table in the middle of the living room accented by native carpets and rustic chairs. It was so Mexican, so welcoming. I couldn’t stop thinking how much Sabina’s house looked like her parents’ house where she grew up. She must have had great memories of that house.
My dear friend!
I heard Sabina’s voice from behind me. At last, you are here!
she said with a big smile while opening her arms to welcome me. We embraced and hugged each other just as we did when we were teenagers.
How was the trip?
she asked.
It was nice and easy,
I responded with a smile. I am so happy to be here!
Yeah.
We both smiled and laughed like in the old days.
How about some wine?
Sabina asked.
Sounds like a marvelous idea!
Sabina went into her kitchen and started pouring red wine into two nice golden glasses. I sat on one of the chairs by the pool as she gave me a glass and sat beside me.
How long has it been since I last saw you?
Sabina asked.
Two years ago, right before your trip to Africa.
Oh, yes, I went to see you in Virginia with my dad.
Yes, you did,
I answered with a smile, knowing she was thinking of her dad. How are you doing since your dad passed away?
Missing him every day.
I saw the pain in her expression.
Sabina turned to look at me and said, I heard your father didn’t leave you anything in the will.
No, he did not.
How do you feel about that?
Disappointed as a daughter. But I guess, deep in my heart, I always expected that from him. You knew my father well. Treating his children equally was not his thing.
Yes, your dad was… special.
On the other hand, in some way, I must be thankful to my father as well. Years ago, he negotiated with my ex-husband for me to own a house. Unfortunately, that was a bittersweet situation, considering the hell I went through to avoid losing it.
I’m sure it was,
Sabina said. The good thing, my friend, is that you will be fine. You have always survived, and this will not be the exception.
That night, while looking through the window at the black ocean reflecting the moon’s beauty, I started to remember my life.
My thoughts took me back to those days when I was a happy little girl, always smiling, always using my imagination, and thinking my life was a magical storybook surrounded by flowers and rainbows.
People around me used to say I was a daydreamer and considered me a little weird since I enjoyed talking to myself. Yes, I had a big imagination and sometimes got lost between my reality and my own fiction. I would imagine tables filled with cupcakes, fruit, and candies and me taking big bites of them, tasting the magnificence of the sweet flavors. I knew it was all in my mind, but it didn’t matter to me because the main idea of the game was to be happy!
I was a romantic little girl, enjoying stories and movies with princesses and princes who fell in love, got married, and had the together forever and ever end of the story. Life seemed so magical, so fun.
As I remembered my happy moments as a child, everything turned gray. Images of my childhood started to pass through my mind in slow motion. My memory took me back to when I was a child.
People find it difficult to believe that someone who seems perfectly fine and normal could have had a traumatic childhood that greatly affected their lives.
Our mind, as a way to protect us from further traumas, will try to block painful memories from our reality.
But for many of us… memories will haunt us forever.
Trying to Understand My Father
Mexico City, Mexico
1974
I remember, as a child, that my grandparents lived on a mountain in a big four-story house. Grandmother Carmen was a stay-at-home mom, and my grandfather Gustavo worked in his brother’s business, which provided supplies for the Mexican navy.
Grandfather Gustavo was tall, thin, and dark-haired with a well-cut mustache. His green eyes always summoned everyone’s attention. He was a very good-looking man with a fifties well-groomed style, but he was not a friendly person.
His daily routine was simple. Every day he came home from work at five o’clock, went up the stairs into his bedroom, changed into his boxers, and lay on his bed to watch TV while reading the newspaper. He never came out of his room to socialize with anyone and avoided family reunions.
On the other hand, my grandmother Carmen enjoyed spending hours in the kitchen cooking. I always remember her at midday, wearing a stylish robe while cooking rice. What surprised me most about her was how easy she made it seem to stir the food with one hand while holding a cigarette in her other hand.
After the meals were done, she would go up to her room—opposite to grandfather’s room—and spend hours changing into her clothes, putting her makeup on, and combing her hair, all while holding another cigarette. She was an extremely beautiful woman with hazel eyes who never lost her style and made sure she always looked her best.
Grandmother Carmen came from a wealthy family. Being the daughter of a well-known and respectable doctor, she saw herself above everyone else. After marrying my grandfather Gustavo, I guess she realized what real life was all about.
She became the mother of five boys, whom she still—even as adults—manipulated to maintain control over the family. The oldest was my father, Carlos, born a few minutes before his twin brother, Adolfo.
My father was the strongest of the siblings and always tried to do better in life than the rest of them. For years, it seemed extremely important for him to prove that he was the most successful son.
He told me stories about how often he did things to impress his parents, making an extra effort to prove himself as the best and smartest son of all. But somehow, he never got the recognition he desired from his parents, especially his father.
Often, he tried to support his brothers financially or by finding them jobs, but unfortunately, my grandmother’s overprotectiveness made them irresponsible and immature.
Eventually, most of them would grow up alcoholics, and their decisions would gravely affect the lives of those around them. At least, for sure, mine.
The Day It All Changed
Mexico City, Mexico
1977 (six years old)
One day, I remember waking up in a good mood. After dressing myself all girly, I asked Mom if she could please comb my hair. Patiently, she tied it in little braids and added plastic color bits. Once she was done, I ran to see myself in the mirror, all excited. I look so pretty, Mom! I’m a princess!
Unfortunately, on that specific day, I was sick, so Mom took me over to my grandmother Carmen’s house while she ran errands. I went into the living room, sat on the floor, and began to draw in my notebook. I thought I was all by myself when suddenly, my father’s brother Salvador walked into the room.
I was used to being around Uncle Salvador because he worked with my father and often came to visit us. I also saw him at family reunions and at his house when Mom would take Lucia and me to play with our cousin, who was a year younger than me.
When Uncle Salvador saw me, he walked extremely slowly toward me, making me feel uncomfortable. The way he looked at me and the way he smiled, showing me his shiny metal tooth, gave me goosebumps. He was usually a nice person, but that day, he seemed strange.
He said to me in an authoritarian way, Erika, come with me.
Where are we going?
Just come.
Knowing I had to obey him because he was an adult, I got up from the table and followed him up the stairs to my grandmother’s bedroom.
After we entered her room, he locked the door behind him and asked me to sit on the bed. Being obedient, I did as I was told.
He sat on the bed by my side and took out a watch from his pocket. He showed it to me and said menacingly, Erika, look at this watch. You are in big trouble now. I know you stole it from me! For sure, once I tell your parents what you did, they will punish you and will call the police on you. You will go to jail! You won’t see your family ever again! No one likes thieves, and if you try to deny it, no one will believe you! Adults know children are liars!
I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but fear overcame me. My body started to tremble, and the sensation of coldness and darkness crept inside me. I stared at him wordlessly while my mind went blank.
With a scary smirk, he said, Don’t worry, my dear niece. I won’t tell anyone about what you have done if you are a good girl with me and do as I say.
He then got up, stood in front of me, unzipped his pants, and raped me. This was the beginning of many more rapes to come.
After this, my world changed forever. Little Erika was lost. I was no longer a happy girl but the opposite. I had entered a cold black hole from which I could not escape.
From being adventurous and brave, I became a worried, scared, and paranoid six-year-old girl. I didn’t trust people and had a hard time being around others. I felt dirty, ashamed, ugly, and worthless. From being a girl who always had a smile, I became bitter, aggressive, and resentful toward others without any reason. If people made jokes, I did not find them funny.
In my mind, I kept wondering, How come everyone around me is so happy when I am so miserable? I wanted people to notice the pain I was going through, and I wanted them to come and save me, but no one did.
Salvador was around me so often that I wondered if anyone could see what he was doing? Perhaps, no one cared? I felt betrayed by my father, who was always willing to help him and spoke so highly of him.
On the other hand, little by little, things started getting really bad for me. At night, because of my fears, I would see imaginary black figures moving in my bedroom. Then they would stand by my bed watching me. I would hear weird noises and footsteps coming up the stairs. I was so terrified that I would hide under my blankets, hoping to become invisible.
Many times, I tried to protect my younger siblings, Lucia, and Alfredo, from whatever was reaching out to get me. I would wake up in the middle of the night to carry them over to my parents’ bedroom. Once there, I would set up a little bed with blankets on the floor next to my parents’ bed, hoping their presence would protect us.
I stopped caring about how I looked, if I was clean, or if my hair was combed. I didn’t want people to notice me and preferred to remain unnoticed.
School was hard, and I found it impossible to concentrate. I daydreamed for hours and kept my mind busy drawing little twirls and figures with no meaning in my notebooks.
In third grade, I had such a hard time learning to read that it seemed as if I was mentally blocked from wanting to learn anything. I wanted to be alone, so I tried to keep myself away from other children. Sadly, my attitude inspired them to start bullying me.
Being bullied made me impatient and easily frustrated with others. I began to believe I deserved to be punished for everything I had or hadn’t done. I eventually victimized myself by taking on the fault for others.
Then Came the Guilt
Mexico City, Mexico
1980
At nine years old, I didn’t know anything about sexuality, what it meant, or what came from it. I had never heard of a period and believed children became parents just by touching each other. So, my mind and body were experiencing things I wasn’t prepared for and wasn’t capable of understanding.
Every day, I would ask myself, Why does Uncle Salvador do this to me? It hurts, and I don’t like it. I don’t like the way he looks at me. I don’t like the way he talks to me. I don’t like the way he touches me. He keeps telling me that I’m his favorite niece, but I don’t want to be his favorite niece!
One day, while I was washing my hands, I looked up in the mirror and saw myself. I looked so gray, unhappy, and scared. I felt as if the only thing I wanted to do was to lock myself in my bedroom, away from everyone. I didn’t want to go out to play with my friends. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to do anything.
Then I started to cry. I felt a need to talk to someone. At that moment, the only person who came to my mind was God. I didn’t talk to him often. I didn’t pray. I didn’t go to church. No one else could help me. So, with devotion, I closed my eyes,