Admit One
tiffany’s pain from porn
Chapter Twenty Eight
A Porn Star Kid’s Cautionary Tale
I hated my mother. I hated her so much that I tried to sabotage everything she did, including her so-called porn ministry.
It all started when I was born.
Darker and hairier than my blonde porn star mom, I felt awkward and ugly. People noticed my “mixed” look and kids made fun of me.
“Werewolf!” they yelled and howled at me. I just punched them back in the face. I was a half-Asian little Karate kid who didn’t take crap from anyone.
I was also very angry. I hated my mother and especially those stupid men she brought home. All the drunken men she dated would tell me they wanted to be my Daddy and I would start to feel so happy inside and think, Wow, I get to be a part of a real family!
But then they would leave again. And also, they touched me down there. I hated when they did that. It made me want to touch myself down there, too.
That’s when I started masturbating at four years old. It made me feel good and anyway, it made the pain go away, at least for a little while. I also pretended to be a boy and do “things” to my stuffed animals. One time I found my mom’s strapped on dildo and acted out sex with my teddy bear. It was weird how I knew how to use it. I probably learned it from my mother when I accidentally saw her porn movie.
She was wearing red. I was five years old.
At first I thought my Mom was a movie star but then I saw an old man pull out his “you know what” and stick it inside of her. I felt so dirty and gross. I thought she was a bad mommy and I hated her.
Then I masturbated. After a few minutes, I hated my life and wanted to die.
A voice helped me and said to me, “It’s okay, Tiffany.”
When I was finished the voice told me, “You should just kill yourself.”
One day I found a knife in the middle of nowhere and I cut myself as hard as I could. I thought it would kill me but it didn’t.
“It’s okay,” the voice said. “You can try again later when Mommy isn’t looking.”
I was desperately afraid of my mother. I knew she would slap me in the face and yell at me if I didn’t do what she said. Sometimes when she wasn’t looking, I tried her wigs on. I wanted to be just like her. I actually wanted to be with her. But she never had time for me.
I was invisible.
When the stupid men came over our house, my Mom gave me a beeper and told me to stay outside until she beeped me. I knew better than to come back in early or she would get mad and yell at me.
When I went outside to play, nobody noticed me.
When I was hungry, I went to the neighbor’s house or my mom would buy me Chili fries at Wienerschnitzel’s. Or sometimes I would go downstairs to get food and see a man with a video camera and my mom naked with another woman.
I got really scared and ran back upstairs.
When we lived in an old house with a bunch of people, I wanted attention so I crawled on my mom’s friend’s lap and asked him to have sex with me. He gave me a funny look.
One time my mom showed me love and gave me a chocolate Sundae. I was so happy but then I saw her pour her “drink” into my ice cream and I got really scared. The bottle had a black and white label. My Mommy made me eat it and then I passed out.
Whenever I tried to hug my mommy, I could tell she didn’t want to touch me. I knew she didn’t want me because I was ugly and half-Asian. She always told me I was nothing like her; that I was just a thing that appeared out of nowhere.
Kids told me I was a bastard. I was also sexually abused.
One night I spent the night with my mom’s boyfriend and he told me to be quiet or I would have to sleep in bed with him naked. But when I laughed because he said the word “naked”, he made me get into the bed with him. Then he made me touch his thing. Then he touched me down there. Everything got really confusing and became black.
I really hated my life. I dreaded waking up in the morning. To get through each day, I pretended I was in a movie and that whenever I woke up, it was a new movie. I became a great actress like my mother.
Then one day I met another one of my mom’s boyfriends. He was tall and nicer than the others. He said he loved my Mommy but I didn’t believe him. My five year old broken heart was already hardened by then.
The only thing I looked forward to was watching MTV. The music soothed me and took me to a place far away from my horrible life. At five years old, my favorite bands were Van Halen, Metallica, and Alice in Chains. I felt really close to the lead singer of Alice in Chains because he seemed really emotional.
I felt like that, too, I imagined.
Later on I heard that my favorite singer took his own life and that it took two weeks for people to finally notice. That’s how I felt. Nobody would even notice if I was gone.
One day out of the blue my Mom married the nicer man and suddenly my new Dad’s family was giving me gifts. They were really nice to me. But I still didn’t trust them.
When I acknowledged my so-called Dad and called him, “Gary”, he told me to call him Daddy instead.
“Okay, Gary,” I simply replied and walked upstairs. No man could tell me anything.
As I grew older I began to cut myself. I felt ugly, disgusting and like a big loser because I masturbated. I thought I was the only one in the world who did that. I also felt really fat because I gained a lot of weight from emotional eating. Eating soothed me, especially chocolate.
In my junior high and high school years, I couldn’t get along with anyone. Being a percussionist in the High School Band was the ONLY thing that made me get up in the morning. By then, I hated my life and felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world. I was big and brown and my flesh was fat and squishy. I felt like a literal piece of shit.
I turned into a rebel when my mother came out publicly with her story. I acted like I was okay with it, but deep inside I felt like she was trying to hurt me on purpose. I blamed God, too. How could He and my mother hurt me all over again, especially when our family finally had some peace?
I grew resentful and was full of rage. I began to self-mutilate myself even more. My mom always asked me why I wore long sleeves. She never knew it was because I cut myself. I also wore jeans to hide my scars and fat. In Washington I could get away with that but in California, my mom began to suspect something was wrong with me.
Finally, out of revenge and encouragement from evil voices, I tried to commit suicide on May 15, 2006, three days before my mother’s birthday and ten days after she appeared on the 700 Club. I had just started taking Lexapro, an anti-depressant for severe PMS. At least that’s what the doctors diagnosed me with. Little did anyone know I still struggled from the severe effects of child sexual abuse. All of those years my mother spent in deep recovery, I never healed.
Everyone just assumed I was healed.
When I found out at school I was failing my geometry class; that was the final icing on the cake. I wanted to prove myself so bad to my parents. I wanted to show people I wasn’t a failure. In truth, I couldn’t even read as a little girl. I got held back in Kindergarten and attended over thirteen schools due to the military moving our family around so much. I never received a solid chance to learn.
I felt like the world’s biggest failure.
My relationships with friends were failing. My family was going through “porn” hell and lost the support of extended family. Now, I was failing at school. The same old voice came to me and said, “It’s okay, Tiffany, just kill yourself and the pain will be over.”
So I skipped my last class and drove home in my truck while laughing like an insane person. Suddenly the thought of me killing myself became the best idea in the world, kind of like the invention of electricity.
But God really had my mom reach out to me that day. Suddenly she called and said she wanted to spend some time with me at the nail salon. I told her I was busy but then my mom kept calling
and said she felt like something was wrong and that she really needed to be with me.
“I don’t want to go to the nail salon. I’m fine.” I lied to her. But she knew something was wrong.
When I got home and out of the truck, I noticed our whole house looked like it had a black fog over it. I could literally hear Satan laughing at me. I couldn’t fight him anymore. I felt high like I was on drugs. I looked around and noticed that every house looked beautiful but that our house looked black and disgusting.
I walked in and dropped everything by the door and went straight to the kitchen to find a knife. I didn’t think twice about it and I started sawing away at my wrist like a violinist. I was crying violently and ferociously, totally out of control. I utterly hated my life and I slashed my wrist as deep as I could.
And then my mother called me. She said she sensed there was something very wrong with me and really wanted to talk to me. I hung up the phone and went to the bathroom where I passed out several times on the floor because of all the blood loss.
Suddenly I came back to reality and a powerful Voice said, “Get up.” I looked around and didn’t recognize what had happened. I started freaking out and God’s Voice said to me to, “Calm down, Tiffany. I am here.”
“What did I do, God? What did I do?” I cried out to God.
God calmly answered, “You cut your wrist. Don’t worry. I need you to type in “Lexapro” in Google.”
I immediately went to the computer and typed in Lexapro and read a warning about teenagers who killed themselves while taking the anti-depressant. God reassured me at that moment that I was not insane. I really felt His love and care for me in that moment.
When my mother came home and realized what had happened, her and my Dad immediately took me to the Emergency Room where the nurse asked me if I wanted to kill myself. I replied yes. Then she typed in the word suicide.
I looked over at my Dad and his head was lowered with tears streaming down his face. It was the worst moment of my life.
My parents were heartbroken. My poor mother was totally confused. She was sure God had told her to go public with her story and to start a ministry to help people in the porn industry and fight pornography and yet, her family was falling apart. That’s when my mother started having serious health problems.
But she never gave up on me and in fact, she fought harder for me. She would come into my room and teach me God’s Word and encourage me with Bible stories like the one about David in Ziklag. She taught me how to encourage myself in the Lord and to never ever give up. She told me how beautiful I was and shared Scriptures about God’s incredible love for me. She didn’t totally understand what I was going through, but she knew God’s Word could heal me. She was living proof of that.
One day I couldn’t stand the pain anymore and I told God either He needed to prove He was real or I was definitely going to kill myself. I threw the Bible up in the air and it landed on my bed and opened to Psalm 103:
Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion.
That is the day I really got saved.
As I began to stand on God’s Word and heal the next few years, God sent me a humble and merciful man named Shane who became the love and joy of my life. I married the first boy I ever kissed on August 15, 2009, when I was twenty years old. I was finally given a real chance to heal and study God’s Word without any interruption. Married to Shane and in his protection, God began to teach me about His great love for me. It’s as if being married demonstrated the “oneness” and “specialness” God wanted to have with me. My parents had shown me a great example of love in a Christian marriage and now it was my turn to experience a loving relationship.
After a very long and difficult journey, I’m now back by my mother’s side and ready to fight the good fight. I know it’s an urgent fight, especially since God has utterly prepared me from the depths of hell. But I’m ready. I’m ready to take Satan on and destroy the works of darkness.
I don’t masturbate anymore and I’m not angry anymore. If anything, I am filled with genuine compassion to help those who are hurting like I was. I am also filled with a holy fire for God’s Truth and Justice to be spread throughout the earth. For such a time as this, I know I have been born and chosen by God to be His messenger.
My name is proof of that. My mother didn’t know it at the time, but she named me “Tiffany” which means, “appearance of God”.
Born of a prostitute, what are the odds?
But God had a perfect plan for my life and He has one for yours, too! Won’t you let me pray for you today? Please say this prayer with me and meet the God “who heals all of your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion.”
Dear Father,
I want to know You. I believe that You sent Your Son Jesus into the world to die for my sins and to heal all of my diseases and to rescue me from the pit of hell and destruction. I ask you to save me and cleanse me and to teach me Your ways and to crown me with love and compassion. Thank you, Father, for Your amazing love.
Amen
Our family loves you and is praying for you!
XXIX
Admit One
Journey into hell
Chapter Twenty Nine
The power of a prayer took on new meaning for my family. With my theology falling apart, our relatives upset with us, verbal attacks from the porn industry, rebukes from so-called Christians and other ministries trying to pull me into the Christian gossip game, I knew it was time to fall on my knees and pray until a I burned a hole into my shaggy brown carpet.
I was definitely not ready for an international porn ministry. I mean, how was I supposed to find spiritual mentors for THAT? But God assured me when I got down on my knees, that He would answer my desperate prayers and do exceedingly above all I could ask or think. I suddenly remembered a preacher’s powerful words when he said, “No great move of God ever happens without great prayer.”
I began to pray for specific things that I knew I needed in order to continue in the radical ministry God had called me to. Inspired by Billy Graham’s autobiography, “Just as I Am”, one thing I prayed for was for dedicated lifelong friends to come alongside of us, just like Billy had. At that time it was only my family up against a mounting porn war and we were already worn out.
Especially me.
From staph infections to severe anemia caused by hemorrhaging during my periods, I had barely started and I was already feeling sick. I remembered my spiritual mentor Pat’s vital words when she warned me I would need to take better care of my health if I wanted to be a missionary. Experienced in world mission’s outreach, she warned me. But I didn’t listen. I was so built up in the “Champion” spiritual ways, I didn’t think much about the “physical” aspect of ministry. In fact, God also warned me about my health. When I first started the ministry in 2004 I weighed a whopping 198 pounds and God warned me to lose weight to get in shape for the powerful mission ahead.
I truly did not understand the vast imminent ministry God called me to. In my mind, I was a Christian mom and Bible teacher who lived in Bakersfield and fought a little porn on the side. Still really involved with my children’s school and my Theology classes, I barely noticed when my interviews appeared on the news or the radio. Okay, maybe I noticed a little. Sure, it was exciting at first to see myself on television or hear myself on the radio but seriously, I became so busy doing the actual work of the ministry that I didn’t watch or listen to half of the interviews I did. In 2006, I was up to about 1-2 radio shows a week tearing the lid off of pornography -- and that’s when all the porn stars, prostitutes and strippers started contacting me.
Truly, that’s when the real ministry began.
Hours and hours of non-stop mental illness and pornographic complaints coming through my telephone into my already stressed out Christian ears
. I listened to hundreds of women tell me their problems all the way from Germany! Obscene things I had never even heard of entered into my reformed mind and although I became confused about the “pornographic” nature of my ministry, I still kept going. The compassion of the Lord Jesus filled my heart for the wrecked women who cried out for help from all over the world.
Suddenly I found myself immersed in MySpace for hours talking to porn stars, strippers, prostitutes, phone sex girls, wives, husbands, youth and everyone else under the sun who cried out for help from pornography and the sex industry. I had developed such a deep love and passion to see all people be healed that I totally forgot about my own health!
But the call of God continued to grow and next thing you know, I started sniffing out porn conventions in January of 2006. My pastor of the church we were semi-attending offered to rent a room to reach out to porn stars. I was overjoyed! Then two weeks before the outreach, the pastor changed his mind and said we were reaching out to porn addicts instead. I was bummed. I also wondered how he planned on getting porn addicts to leave a porn convention and receive help for porn addiction.
But we all put our trust in God and a small team from Bakersfield headed for Las Vegas to the Adult Entertainment Expo 2006. Well, at least we headed for a rented room close by to the expo. We split up in teams and I ended up being one of the few that went inside the actual convention. Unfamiliar with the modern day porn industry, a whole new pornographic world opened up to me as I stood there in horror staring at violent images in front of me.
Video after video of women’s faces being ripped back while grotesque men violently penetrated them from behind became too much for me. To my great disgust, I turned my head to witness the hundreds to thousands of male fans standing around me watching the violent videos with extreme delight. I couldn’t believe my Christian eyes! I had never seen so many desperate demonized men in one place. Starving ravenous wolves staring at the porn stars as if it was their last meal, I wanted the hell out of there. But the Lord told me to get out the anointing oil instead and lay hands on all the booths. Obedient to His Voice, I began to pray through the power of Holy Spirit, and suddenly a matter of life and death became clear to me. The urgency I felt was unexplainable as I went from booth to booth casting out demons under my breath in the name of Jesus Christ. The powerful warrior in me rose up and I knew I was battling for the eternal destiny of souls.
Truth Behind the Fantasy of Porn Page 18