My Story (33 page)

So what I did may not be so exceptional when you consider the entire scope of human experience.

But there are some things that helped me.

I have always loved horses and horseback riding. Even as a young child, I would much rather watch
Black Beauty
or
Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken
than anything else. For me, there’s something very special about these wonderful animals. Their strength. Their power. The way they learn to trust you. The way you can learn, even as a child, to control them. The way they learn to depend on you, to treat you as an equal even though the fact is that in many ways, you are not. I loved riding before I was kidnapped, and I loved it even more once I got back.

But horses aren’t like cars. You don’t just get on, throw the horse into gear, and go until you stop. Even a good horse might spook at a shadow, a tree, or a rock, even if they have walked down the same trail a hundred times before. Maybe this time the sunlight hits an object a little differently, or maybe there’s a different scent in the air, a different wind, or maybe you are sitting a little forward in the saddle. You always have to be on your toes with horses, never taking them for granted, and for me, there is just something therapeutic about being around them. Riding them. Feeding them. Brushing them and currying their manes. Going into nature and forgetting all the worries of this life.

I also think that if you take care of your horses, and are gentle with them, and work with them through their moments of fright, horses become a pretty accurate mirror of what kind of person you are. I have learned that a horse isn’t going to treat you any different than you treat them.

So I have always loved horses. But more than anything else, I loved riding with my Grandpa Smart.

Grandpa Smart, despite being an oncologist, was a true cowboy. Not the city kind, with smooth boots that had never stepped in a corral and button-down denim shirts. He was the real kind; the kind who grew up taking care of animals, who loved them and related to them. If some men are all hat and no horse, my grandpa was all horse and a well-worn hat.

I loved riding with him, but it was always a challenge. He’d lead me bushwhacking through the forest, over the face of what felt like sheer cliffs, wading through ice-cold rivers. There was something simply wonderful about horseback riding with him. And we did a lot of it after I got back.

Grandpa never pushed me or pried. He simply brought me along to enjoy the ride. He used to say that some people talked too much.
Ride more, talk less.
That was his approach to life. Going with him, you always knew you were in for an adventure. But at the same time, you knew you would be left alone to your thoughts.

From him, I developed a true appreciation for the beauties of nature, silence, and being able to step away from the immediate and look at the big picture. This helped me to make decisions, and to see my life, and to see my problems with a little more clarity.

And again, I’m not alone. Horses, and riding, have been credited with helping many others through some of life’s most difficult challenges, including serious illness. Ann Romney said that horses gave her the energy and strength to get out of bed, helping her to deal with her multiple sclerosis. Other treatment programs have been designed around the care of other animals.

I suppose that riding was my therapy. And it was very effective.

My Grandpa Smart passed away in January of 2006. I miss him a lot. But the things that he taught me absolutely changed my life.

*

I had another source of therapy that has helped me throughout my life.

One December when I was five years old, my mom took me Christmas shopping. While we were downtown, I saw a huge Christmas tree with an angel on top that was playing the harp. I remember looking up and thinking, “I want to be put on the top of a Christmas tree! I guess the only way to do that is to play the harp.” That was the beginning.

I can’t say that I was the perfect student who lived to practice, because I wasn’t. There were plenty of times that my mom or dad had to physically come in and sit with me for the duration of my practice session. But I got pretty good. And I developed a great love for playing music.

When I came home, nothing could speak my feelings better than the harp. I know this sounds clichéd, but I think that every musician feels the same way. Music is the unspoken language that can convey feelings more accurately than talking ever could. So playing the harp became extremely therapeutic for me. If I ever felt sad or angry or frustrated, I would sit down and start playing. Once I had submerged my heart into my music, my feelings evaporated and I could go out and face the world again. Besides that, if you have ever heard the harp, then you understand that it is not possible to stay upset for long while playing such a beautiful instrument. Clearly, there is a reason that heavenly angels are depicted playing harps!

All of these things have helped me. But ultimately, to get better, I simply made a choice.

Life is a journey for us all. We all face trials. We all have ups and downs. All of us are human. But we are also the masters of our fate.
We
are the ones who decide how we are going to react to life.

Yes, I could have decided to allow myself to be handicapped by what happened to me. But I decided very early that I only had one life and that I wasn’t going to waste it.

As of this writing, I am twenty-five years old. I have been alive for 307 months. Nine of those months were pretty terrible. But 298 of those months have been very good. I have been happy. I have been very blessed. Who knows how many more months I have to live? But even if I died tomorrow, nine out of 307 seems like pretty good odds.

Looking at it that way, I don’t think I have much to complain about.

People sometimes ask me if I am happy. Have I truly been able to move on with my life? Have things turned out okay for me? I want you to know that they have. I am happy. I am fulfilled. I am satisfied and at peace with myself and the life that I have built.

I once heard an old saying:
I never said it would be easy; I only said it would be worth it.
I think that’s about right. Like everyone, I have my challenges. But I have learned from them and they have helped to make me better.

*

There is one other very important explanation for why I’ve been able to overcome what happened to me.

I believe in gratitude.

When I first got home from being kidnapped, I was so grateful to be back with my family, so grateful that they cared and had not given up on me. I was so grateful for a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, and hot water to take a bath. I was so grateful for food to eat, for shoes that fit, for clean cloths. I was grateful for literally everything.

Then, when my mom shared her advice with me, I made the firm resolution that I would always be grateful and never feel sorry for myself. I resolved that whenever I might have any doubts or moments of weakness—and I knew that they would come—I would tell myself,
Elizabeth, you have everything back now! But you remember all those hard times, right? And because you remember all those hard times, you can remember the depth of your gratitude.

And I have also learned that my challenges can help me reach out to others with more empathy and understanding than I could ever have had before.

When we are faced with a challenge, it is very easy to be mad or upset. But when we have passed our great test, we are then given opportunities to reach out to other people. We are able to effect change in a way that otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to.

Because of the things I have lived through, I can help other people now. I can reach out to other victims and help them to learn to be happy. Because I have actually lived through these experiences, I am able to be a voice for change. If I hadn’t had this terrible experience, I’m not sure that I would have cared enough about these issues to become involved. And even if I did become involved, I wouldn’t be able to do many of the things that I’ve been able to do. I’d be just another young girl who doesn’t really know what she’s talking about.

I am grateful for these opportunities that I’ve had to help other people. They have blessed my life.

Gratitude has also helped me to keep a healthy perspective.

One of my favorite movies is
Ever After
with Drew Barrymore. For those of you who have not seen it, it is another version of
Cinderella
. One of my favorite lines from the movie is when the evil stepmother tells Cinderella, “We mustn’t ever feel sorry for ourselves, because no matter how bad things are, they can always get worse!”

Now, I know that sounds kind of pessimistic, but when I was being held captive, every time I thought that things couldn’t get any worse, somehow they always did.

So instead of looking at the evil stepmother’s words as being coldhearted and mean, I now translate them to say, “We always have something to be grateful for because there will always be something that could make your situation worse.”

The first time Mitchell made me go naked and said we were playing “Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden” I didn’t think anything could be worse.

Now I look back and I am grateful that I wasn’t being filmed and then exploited and traded through the Internet like so many other children have been. I’m so grateful that my captors were strangers and in no way connected with me. I don’t have to go home every night and see them, or see pictures of them hanging on the wall, or know that even though my family is so upset with what they might have done to me, there is still a piece of their hearts that cares and loves the abusers because they are their children, or parents, or brothers and sisters.

And there were other examples too.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Mitchell made me do something that made me sick. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I went seven days without anything to eat. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Mitchell made me drink until I woke up in my own vomit.

Knowing it can always get worse, I try to be grateful for whatever good I have.

I also believe in faith. Faith in a loving and kind Heavenly Father who will always care about me. Faith that my worth will never be diminished. Faith that God knows how I feel and that I can depend on him to help me through it all. I believe that God not only suffered for me, but that He will make everything up to me in His own time and His own way. That gives me the peace I need to feel like justice will win out in the end.

That is why I could eventually forgive my captors. That is
not
to say that I want to ever see them again, or that I would ever invite them to Sunday dinner! Believe me, I don’t! Every life that they have ever touched, they did their best to destroy. But that is not for me to judge. I don’t have to spend even a second of my life worrying about what happens to Brian David Mitchell or Wanda Barzee.

*

The morning after I was rescued, I was able to write a message to the world. I don’t have it anymore, and I don’t remember every word, but this is essentially what it said:

I want to thank everyone for what they did for me. I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world. I am so grateful for everyone who prayed for me. I am so grateful for everyone who searched for me, or followed my story, or did everything they could to try to bring me home. Your efforts all made a difference and I want to tell you thank you.

Even now, after all these years, I still feel the same way. So I’ll say it again. To all of you who helped me or prayed for me or tried to bring me home: Thank you. I will always be grateful. I love you for what you’ve done.

Elizabeth Smart is now a nationally recognized advocate for children’s rights. She is president of the Elizabeth Smart Foundation, which advocates for change related to child abduction and recovery programs and legislation. As well as being involved in the Elizabeth Smart Foundation, Elizabeth has helped promote the National AMBER Alert, the Adam Walsh Child Protection & Safety Act, and other safety legislation to help prevent abductions. She also helped to develop a survivors’ guide titled
You’re Not Alone: The Journey from Abduction to Empowerment
to encourage children who have gone through similar experiences to not give up and know that there is life after tragic events.

Elizabeth met her future husband while serving her LDS mission in Paris, France. Elizabeth describes Matthew Gilmour, who was a fellow missionary from Scotland, as the nicest, most genuine, and most honest person that she has ever met.

On February 18, 2012, they were married in the Hawaiian LDS temple, starting their very happy lives together.

*

On May 21, 2010, Wanda Barzee was sentenced to fifteen years in federal prison for her role in the kidnapping and sexual assault of Elizabeth Smart, as well as one to fifteen years at the Utah State Prison for the attempted kidnapping of Smart’s then fifteen-year-old cousin. The sentences are to run concurrently.

On May 15, 2011, having been convicted of kidnapping Elizabeth Smart at knifepoint, holding her hostage for nine months, and subjecting her to horrific abuse, Brian David Mitchell was sentenced to life in federal prison.

Under the federal system, he has no chance of parole.

About the Author

ELIZABETH ANN SMART is an American activist and president of the Elizabeth Smart Foundation. She first gained widespread attention at age fourteen when she was kidnapped from her home and rescued nine months later.

MY STORY. Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Smart. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Cover design by Rob Grom

Cover photograph © Bill Miles

The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Smart, Elizabeth.