The darkest days of my life began at the precious age of 7. I was sexually molested every night for what seemed like forever. Night after night a family member violated my innocence. I was 13 years old when I found the courage to tell my family about the abuse. What should have been a day of justice and vindication turned into an even darker reality - no one did anything. No one confronted the man who stole my childhood. No one did anything to comfort me or help me heal from my wounds.

When I was 15 years old my mother married my step-father and we moved from the only place I had known as home. It was hard to adjust to the new area. I hated my new home, my friends, and my school. I thought that I could at least find comfort in my mother and new father, but once again, I was disappointed. My mother was focused on her new marriage and my step-father didn't want to be a dad to anyone. I felt alone, unwanted, and unloved.

In an effort to get the attention I so desperately wanted, I rebelled. I didn't care about anything or anyone. I was determined to make everyone around me as miserable as I was. Eventually, I found myself in an abusive relationship with a man who I thought beat me because he loved me. When I finally had enough, I made the decision to run away.

I ran to the streets of New York City - a place of bright lights and busy streets - a place where no one knew my name. I was determined to prove that I didn't need anyone. I kept odd jobs to make money. I bathed in public restrooms, slept in subways, demolished cars, rooftops, and bus depots. When I was able to splurge, I would sleep in an all-night movie theater or a cheap hotel room. I never did drugs, drank alcohol, or even smoked cigarettes. I didn't cause trouble and never bothered anyone for anything. I was never a menace to society, I was just lost in the streets.

I don't want to sugar coat my story. Being in the street wasn't without danger. I was sexually violated and thrown into several life threatening situations.

I missed out on my teenage life. I never attended my high school graduation or went to prom. I never experienced the "puppy love" of a teenage love affair. Being on the streets forces you to grow up quickly in order to survive.

After about a year I realized that running was not the answer. If I was going to have any kind of success in life I would have to fight to get it. I made up my mind to run again, but this time I ran back home.

I will never forget that fateful day. I have since healed from my trauma through the love of God, good friends, and counseling. Now my story is my testimony. I know that it was God who saved me and gave me the strength to make it. I look at what I have accomplished in my life and all I can say is, "Thank you, Lord!" I have come so far that most people look at me and can't believe that I survived the streets for a year. I have learned to love myself and will allow others to love me.

Thousands of our children run away as a result of peer pressure, dysfunctional families, divorce, violence, and feeling as if they don't belong. These children are reaching out for help. They need our help before it's too late. I have made it my life's mission to help those who are lost. To help them find their way back home.

Ruperta was kind enough to share a radio appearance she made not long ago with us. We originally posted it on Facebook, but you can check it out here.