This is my both my origin story and the details of what happened behind the locked doors of Hephzibah House, the cult I was trapped in for three years. Your support helps with cover editing, design, and printing.
Okay sooo… my book is literally my whole life story. It’s an autobiography, but not one of those boring ones. My family immigrated to America when I was before I was born. Being born an American did not mean that I had a regular American upbringing. I didn’t get to have a normal childhood between the cultural expectations my parents brought with them from overseas and the physical, emotional, and sexual abuse I experienced from not only my parents, but relatives, family friends, and strangers alike.
When I was a teenager, I was kidnapped and sent to a place called Hephzibah House. It was supposed to be a “Christian girls home,” but it was actually a cult. I spent three years trapped there. I made it out, but not everyone was able to mentally cope with what we had to experience there. I think about the other girls all the time. Some of them are out there now in toxic relationships, struggling with addiction, or just trying to survive with no real support. I wrote this book to finally let my story be heard, but also to shed light on the existence of places like Hephzibah. It shut down in 2019, but there are rumors it might reopen under a different name. If sharing what happened to me helps protect even one girl, or leads to stronger laws that stop this kind of abuse, then it’s worth it.
Although I've been healing, Some nights I still get flashbacks of the iron triple bunks and plastic mattresses. The motion sensor alarms were the worst
We were required to wear these uniforms to church when we were being punished. The rules were so strict that occasionally all of us had to wear the uniform amonth other things
Many girls never saw this side of the building again until they were discharged
My first beach/ ship watching experience
Here’s a small preview of my story. It’s still in progress, but I wanted to share a piece with you. If your interested, feel free to support my project of join my newsletter for an update when the book is ready.
My feet pounded against the cracked pavement, my heart slamming against my ribs. I didn’t know where I was going,I didn’t care. The only thought in my head was to stay free. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, fueling my body beyond exhaustion, beyond pain, beyond fear. I tore through the empty parking lot, past the rusted gas pumps, past the flashing OPEN sign that mocked me from the window.I had no plan. No destination. Just the overwhelming need to put as much distance between me and that car as possible.
I kept running.
I don’t know how long I ran, how far I got before my body started to rebel against me. My legs were burning, my lungs felt like they were being crushed, but I refused to stop. Stopping meant giving up. I couldn’t stop.
Not yet.
As the night stretched on, the world around me blurred into shapes and shadows. I followed the train tracks, hoping they would lead me somewhere, anywhere. But as the sun began to rise, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, reality hit me like a tidal wave.
I was alone.
In the middle of nowhere.
With no idea what to do next.
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wanted to scream, to cry, to call my mother, to beg for help, but she couldn’t help me, there was no one. Nobody loved me. Nobody cared. Nobody even noticed I was missing. By the time I stumbled into town, my body was trembling with exhaustion, my vision swimming. I barely had time to process what was happening before I was surrounded.
Reclaiming Hephzibah is a passion project I’ve been working on for two years, but I know I can’t publish something this big entirely alone. If you’re an editor, designer, podcaster, journalist, or just someone who wants to help share a story that’s hard to tell—I’d love to connect. Whether you want to feature it, support the publishing process, or offer advice, please reach out to me via Model Mayhem and let’s talk. I’d be grateful for any collaboration that helps this story reach the people who need it.