Like Bleach On My Scarlet Letter

I am writing all of this to share my heart. I don't have a large blog following, and I'm glad. It's more intimate this way, and many of you are my very dear friends. I feel like we are called to be there for one another, to lift each other up--So here I am.
For almost 5 years, I've felt haunted by what I have come to call my Scarlet Letter-Not the same situation as the book, but the same feeling, nonetheless. At first, it was my testimony, but the farther I got from that place in my past, the less I wanted to talk about it. I like the depiction of the perfect young family. Our marriage, our house, our 3 small children. OUR children--all 3 of them.
I've faced many emotions, ranging from fear for my safety and fear of the unknown, to shame, anger and regret. It's hard when I've known I have been forgiven, but still felt bound by it. I still immediately scan the area when I'm in public. I avoid Quik Trip, and get nauseous & shake if I think I see him (which I have, but he didn't see me and I was able to leave). It's become habit for 4 1/2 years, something I still think about each day.
I think that sometimes forgiveness--having our slate wiped clean--isn't viewed that way. As humans, we still see the sin. We still remember the hurt and shame. I still cringe when I have to make an appointment for Sydney because her last name is my maiden name. It feels like a constant reminder of the former, a slap in the face. "Look--she was an unmarried mother... "
Yes, we want Jason to adopt Sydney. No, it hasn't been pursued yet. The first few years of marriage are tighter financially, and we've also had a fear of rocking the boat, so to speak. I got a no contact order put in place when I was pregnant with Sydney and I haven't talked to "him" since. It will be 5 years in November, and that will also be 4 years since Jason and I have been together. He is the only Dad she has ever known, and he completely loves her as his own. The lack of genetics to biologically bind them in no way lessens their bond, or his role as her father. Period.
Truthfully, I am the one that struggles the most, because I'm the one that made the mistakes. I cannot tell you how much I hate it. I cannot tell you how many tears I've cried. If only I would have waited. If only I would have known my worth. If only...
Like I said, I would love to say my husband is my only one. I would love to say that I didn't make completely foolish decisions. I can't. What I can say, is that who I was is not who I am. As my husband said to me last night, "Here are two stories. Pretend you don't know who I'm talking about:" (I am paraphrasing)

There was a girl who grew up in church, but decided to go her own way. She lived a partying lifestyle all through high school, and was involved in a very toxic relationship. She got pregnant shortly after high school and wound up alone.

Then there was a girl who had made some bad decisions, but decided to give her life to the Lord. She got married to a loving, forgiving man, they bought a house and now have 3 children. Her husband adores her, and she adores him as well.

Doesn't sound like the same person, does it?

I don't know that girl anymore. I don't have to wear that Scarlet Letter. It doesn't sound fair..."but the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair."-Relient K I can rejoice today because I am no longer bound. My decision to put off the former life has been rewarded, even though I didn't deserve it. I'm getting ready to celebrate my 3rd wedding anniversary and I can do so without having to worry about people thinking, "Oh, they've only been married 3 years? But they have a 4 year old daughter. I thought they were Christians." You bet we are. That doesn't mean that I'm required to be perfect. It doesn't mean that I am any less of a Christian now because of what I once was. I was unworthy of redemption, but the price was already paid.
I try to 'keep it real' on here, and this is just a post from my heart. It's not an easy one to write. I know there will be some who may judge me anyway. I know some may not understand. That's ok. I'm writing it as my blog therapy. I have no one to impress, nothing to prove. I may be a bit scattered and random, but that's ok, too. I'm just me, and I'm finding peace.

As a side note, I was listening to the radio today, when "East to West" came on. This last part nearly had me in tears, as I had just been thinking of what to write for this post, without it being my words:

I know You've washed me white, turned my darkness into light
I need Your peace to get me through, to get me through this night
I can't live by what I feel, but by the truth Your word reveals
I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me
You're holding on to me

Jesus, You know just how far the east is from the west
I don't have to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other...

Sweet relief.