My name is Bonnie Rodriguez, and I’m 20 years old. I was raised in the lower east side of San Antonio, and I was taught by my mom and “dad” (who changed often). I come from a family of alcoholics, drug dealers/users, gang members, convicted felons, and murderers. I come from a family where it’s okay for a man to put his hands on a woman. I come from a family that hates when you try to be something more. I come from a family that loves to see you fail. I come from a family where completing the 8th grade is the standard of success. I come from a family where no one thinks they’re worthy enough. I come from a family where being educated in all areas is a disgrace to your kind. I come from a family that thinks beating your kid is the only way to get through. I come from a family where government assistance is the way of life. I come from a family of instability and inconsistency. I come from a family that thinks it’s okay to have sex at 13. I come from a family where you have to be strong because anything else is weakness. I come from a family that thinks it’s okay to take advantage of a child for sexual pleasures. I come from a family that will leave you fending for yourself no matter what age, to go party since they didn’t get to because they had you too young.
Because those were the standards, I was removed from my home and put into foster care at age 7. Foster care wasn’t the best experience. I dealt with abuse physically, sexually, and emotionally. I’ve been in 14 homes due to some of those reasons as well as my own doing. I was told a lot of things were wrong with me mentally because of my past. I was taken to counselors, therapists, and psychologists to help me “cope” with my issues and was diagnosed with different disorders, so they placed me on 5 to 6 medications. They made me feel no different, but when I tried to speak about them not being effective, I was ignored or given a higher dosage. I didn’t have a voice in care because I was just a kid and my opinion didn’t matter. I was treated like a project instead of a human being. When no one wanted to deal with me, I was admitted into mental institutions for residential care or doped up.
I know not all homes are this way, but most in my case were in it for the money. They didn’t care, so I ran away at 15 to go and find my mom. I met with her and my 5 year old sister, and I thought since time had gone by, maybe my mom had made some changes in her life, but things were still the same. She said I could stay with her, but I had to stay out of the way and put food on the table. I didn’t care – I was just happy to be with her. I wanted her to love me so bad that I was willing to do anything to make her proud. Before I knew it, I was snorting cocaine for bonding time and being told that I was going to have to find a way to care for my sister because she had “better” things to do. She introduced me to the life of prostitution, and before I knew it, she was sending me off with a man. I didn’t want that lifestyle, but she told me that if I loved her I had to so I could put food on the table and clothes on our backs. I endured because of my innocent baby sister. She didn’t deserve to suffer for my mom’s poor choices. All that came to an end when CPS came again and took my sister and me. They didn’t know all of what was going on and how I got into prostitution.
I ran away again after my sister got placed with her aunt. I sofa surfed and started living recklessly. I didn’t feel I could function without my pills, so I started taking whatever I could get my hands on. I found stability at one of my good friend’s apartment. She let me stay with her until I got on my feet. While with her, we partied hard. We were doing heavy drugs like cocaine and hydro. We popped all sorts of pills, drank until we blacked out, and we were even selling ourselves for fast cash. We had her 1 year old baby to take care of and $600 rent, plus bills. I hated life and what I was doing, so I tried to commit suicide for the third time. I was sick of feeling confused, unworthy, lonely, degraded, and unloved. Even though I was getting attention and hearing “I love you’s” from strangers, it meant nothing because I knew it was all coming from being caught up in the moment. I was afraid at times to be with these men because I knew I was putting my life on the line working that kind of lifestyle. I realized at that moment that after the drugs wore off, the partying was over, and I was alone, I still felt empty inside. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t escape the pain. I would let no one into my heart because I had been hurt enough. I became numb and hard hearted.
I thought changing my environment would help me get myself together, so I left San Antonio, and a door opened up to go to Gary Job Corps. I went to Job Corps with hopes of a better future and a new life. Little did I know things were going to get worse. It ended up being a big joke. It was nothing like they told me it would be. It was just like being on the streets again. I could score drugs whenever, even get staff to help bring it in. I found myself in the same cycle again, except it made me think what I was doing was okay since everyone around me was doing it. I admit, at the time, I loved being there because it supported what was okay in my eyes. Deep down though, I really wanted to change but didn’t know where to find it.
I got involved with a man I met through a friend, and he came in my life at an unexpected time. It started off different than other relationships. He didn’t want sex but wanted to know me, the depths of me, he said. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful person he knew. Being gullible, I let him into my heart, pouring everything I had to offer into him. Things were perfect until one day he turned into a completely different person. Everything changed. He put his hands on me, talked ugly to me, and I allowed it because I was afraid to lose him. I thought he was the best I could get. We stayed on that level for a while, and again, my heart was broken. I held onto him tighter when I got the news about my mom overdosing on heroine. I couldn’t handle the pain, so I doped up more and numbed myself in any way I could. One night, I saw my whole life flash before my eyes when I had a gun held to my head asking if I was ready to die. This man that I thought loved me was willing to kill me. I was confused. He asked me if I loved him, and if I did, I needed to do as he said. He told me he was a pimp, and he wanted me to work for him. I couldn’t believe that everything I was trying to get away from had followed me. I agreed to do what was asked to live to see another day. I felt like I had nothing to lose anyway since everything had already been taken away. I was living a double life as a student and then a prostitute. I knew I couldn’t get out of this one. I was trapped because he had too much information about me not to go back. I got myself through telling myself this was my life and I had to accept it. It was hard to pretend I was happy at school so no one would ask questions, but everything took a toll on me after a while and I got into depression. I cut off my friends that tried to help and school really didn’t matter, but I needed it not to have to live with this man 7 days a week.
I was aware of God and heard He could help people, but it was never something I cared to want to get into. I had always prayed about stuff and asked for His help with things but never got a response. I thought God was mad at me so He was punishing me. I didn’t really sincerely cry out to God in brokenness until my 18 year old brother was killed. I told God I needed His help to tell me what to do because I had no more strength to fight. I told Him I gave up and was tired. I cursed Him and said what my heart felt and bawled. My circumstances didn’t change, but I felt I had a little bit more strength and hope to keep going. I was going to be okay, something said. Two months later, everything I was doing at school caught up to me. They were kicking me out, and I had nowhere to go but to the other life I had. I knew that wasn’t where I wanted to go, so I didn’t tell him I was being kicked out. I was worried that I’d be homeless. I ended up going with the man I worked for. I stayed about 3 weeks, living minute to minute, until God mysteriously put this woman I met at a mall in my life who helped me get away from Him. I went to this temporary “Christian” home that was supposed to help me find Jesus, but it ended up being a cult. One morning I asked God to either give me the strength to make it through there until something else opened up or remove me anywhere else because I needed a break.
That same day, God came through, but I thought it was luck at the time, and I found In Triumph. I was expecting this to be another pit stop, but little did I know this was the break I’d being trying to catch for a while. As soon as I got there, I was welcomed and served, which I found weird at first. I thought these people were weirdos. They were so friendly and smiled a lot which I was not used to. I felt comfortable, which I found odd. As I lay in bed that night, I asked myself, now what? I felt a peace come over me and fell asleep. I was expecting the smiles to drop and the drama to start but they didn’t. Days turned into weeks and things were still the same. I felt at peace there but still kept my guard up. The Orta family truly wanted to help me with no motive, which I thought was too good to be true. I mean, seriously, who takes in people from all walks of life and puts them into their house? It sounded crazy to me. I just had a hard time believing they just wanted to help. There was no motive besides telling me about Jesus. I thought to myself, “Here we go again.” It was different, though. Every time I’d catch myself saying, “What if he’s right, but how do I know he’s legit and what he’s saying is true?” Everything was backed up by scripture, and it wasn’t twisted. I knew this place was different when it felt right inside, and there was no confusion. I loved that they weren’t hypocrites, and I got to see them every day and how they lived like they said Jesus wanted us to live. This place led me to Jesus two months later, and my life has changed better than I could have ever imagined. Nothing was ever forced – it was a choice I made for my soul.
Jesus has changed my life in every way. He’s given me the strength to forgive, the heart to love, the joy to enjoy life, the family I’ve yearned for, and the peace of mind, true love and comfort I’ve searched for I found in Him. I’m so blessed God saved me from myself and forgave what I thought could never be forgiven (my sins). He’s given me faith to hold onto through his Word. He’s given me true happiness on earth, as well as a spot in His kingdom. It may not seem like much, but I’m content and humble where He has me and will remain grateful until it’s time for something new. I’ve learned that I’ve created my best result and it almost cost me my life. I want to be the woman He’s called me to be and no matter where I end up, I know it’s where I’m supposed to be, and I’ll continue to praise Him. My life isn’t butterflies and lilies now. I struggle like everyone else. The only difference is I know I’m not alone, and I know Who’s in control. I’m letting the old Bonnie die, and the new Bonnie with the Spirit of Jesus live. “I thank God for His saving grace!” Ephesians 2:5.
