Blatant Exposure/I Can Do All Things With Christ

(My first writing for this blog, as well as new entries)

By Nicole Hilton Friday, July 13, 2018

I asked God once,

Why oh why God did you give me such a need to expose myself, such blatant honesty…and this incessant need for recognition?

He answered back, or at least I thought He did:

I know your loneliness is excruciating.

Your need to be known is both human and divine. Good will come of this if you are honest because you seek to point others to the truth. Good will come from this if you come from a desire to connect others to themselves and to God.

But evil will come from this if you seek to expose the faults of others. Evil will come from this if you seek to exalt yourself above those who are in need of your love.

After getting that from Him, I really have no idea if this blog is inspired or not. I know it’s been growing on my mind for years—yet I’ve been afraid to start. I’m afraid of my pride, mostly. I’m afraid I’m feeding my ego—this monster inside of me which might grow bigger and bigger with any recognition I receive—until I have a massive fall and I might be lost from beholding God forever.

I’m also afraid there is no one out there who will resonate with what I write. That I am completely alone on this Telestial plane. That it’s just the angels, God, and me who gets the complex glorious chaos that’s bursting like paint balloons inside of me—and thus inside of the whole Universe. That no one will accept the part of themselves that is me. Or at least that’s how I think about life, anyway.

But I need an outlet. And if one person out there gets it—if they understand what I’m trying to say—then it’s worth it, isn’t it? I hope it’s you I’m writing to.


People don’t want other people to know everything about them. I’ve never understood this. I desperately have always wanted everyone to know everything about me—warts and all. I used to think the root of this desire was pride and a desperate search for validation, because I wasn’t giving enough to myself. I know that those two things have something to do with it…but even deeper than that, I think I want this open exposure because it reminds me of Heaven.

In Heaven, you are surrounded by other people who are on your level, or who come down to your level. You know them, and they know you. No words need to be spoken. You just…read. You read others like books, or see in them every truth they are attuned to. You know each other. Communication there is clear and simple, yet complex and astounding at the same time. And nothing is ever a one-way street. I was known through and through, accepted, and unconditionally loved. Everyone I was surrounded by I knew, accepted, and loved as well. The connection there…the knowledge that we were all separate and distinct, yet one, was a level of comfort completely incomprehensible to the human mind on this plane.

In this life, I don’t remember exactly when or who taught me that God sees and feels everything we do. It’s been ingrained in me since I could grasp rudimentary English. It’s probably the first abstract concept I held in my head. What? There’s someone out there who is all-knowing, all-powerful, and is watching my every move? From within AND without?! 

Then I heard about Adam and Eve in the garden. They were completely naked before God—yet they walked around with him openly and unashamed. I remember being naked in my room when I was five and feeling God’s eyes upon me—and turning to recoil into the corner or into the bathroom, or into some clothes. Yet this recoiling wasn’t natural to me—I had been taught to recoil and hide because I was naked. Over time, I realized that there was no running or hiding from God. No matter where I am, or what is covering me, God can see my physical nakedness.

He can also see my emotional, mental, and spiritual nakedness as well. To this day, I’m shocked that some of the very people who taught me that God sees all still try to hide things from God or themselves.

I want to say, Don’t you see that you are naked? That everyone and everything will be exposed at the last day?!

God says that He will “remember <our sins> no more.“ I don’t know if that means the rest of us will.

Yes, I’m one of the annoying ones who will chat your ear off about themselves til the cows come home if you give me half a chance, a listening ear, and an understanding eye. It’s literally one of the only ways I’ve found to process things. But these people are few and far between. Through the years, and as I’ve integrated many of my “littles”, I’ve slowly—very slowly—realized that not everyone wants to hear everything about me. This was shocking to me, but now I conform to standard social cues…most of the time. Now, I hope that I want to know everything about others that they want to share with me. About you…eventually I think I will. I think we all will.


Thursday, Sept. 29th, 2022

Now, five years later, I understand why God gave me this gift of blatant honesty.

I just need to keep reminding myself that “there are no shadows in Heaven”.


Monday, October 10th, 2022

And now I understand why I have such a need for others to recognize me. (It’s actually not because I have narcissistic tendencies, which was a relief to find out.) If you have this need as well, just know for a fact that you were seen in Heaven.


Monday, March 20th, 2023

Most my parts/personalities are a collective—and I have retrieved a lot of my memories of darkness and of light, and I can hold all of this information in my mind at one time without going nuts. I’m a painted ostrich egg that was crushed but is now glued back together again, and I know as plain as the nose on my face:

1. I get my entire childhood. I get that if it was just a rape in second grade, I wouldn’t have become suicidal. I get just why I committed suicide when I was seven, and why I desperately clawed my way back into my body after I’d been dead and gone to heaven for the first time when no one knew it. I get why I felt absolute confusion after coming back, then hitting my head against my palm and screaming WHY over and over again—and all the pain that seemed to burst out of my heart in that moment…I get it, God. I get why You had to stand by and watch that. I get why I’ve always been so awkward —and an attention seeker in grade school—and why my family is the way that it is. I get why I married those two men as bookends to my BYU education and just why I always knew, deep down, that they weren’t supposed to be anything more than temporary teachers who showed me what I both did and didn’t want. I know why all the mental hospital stays—around 20 of them—happened, and now I remember the terrifying rocking back and forth in a corner or the singing and dancing I did and just WHY I did those things, and I know why I experienced all the other stories on my computer or my blog. I know which secrets of light have been tucked away in my head/in one of my personalities since I first learned of their existence in 2016 at BYU. This has been thrilling and heartbreaking for myself and for everyone around me, in ways I cannot explain over the past five or so months. Especially as I’ve shared with some who didn’t understand—just like how Joseph Smith wanted to share what had happened to him in the sacred grove and that backfiring in a big way.

2. I’ve been able to finally hold this secret—this mystery—in my head for the first time without going psycho and ending up in the mental hospital so they can medicate me down and brainwash me with what they ‘know’…without any support from someone on this plane who truly believes and gets it and the absolute magnitude and beauty of it—but no one actually gets it, except whoever wrote a few seemingly “obscure” passages in D&C 101:32-33, and Moses 7:48-67 that I now cling to. I am so alone.

3. Or, at least, I feel so very, very alone on this side of the veil. My excitement at getting most of my memories back has been wasted on the air. The celebratory dance and screaming in joy at the news of being able to piece my whole life together so it ALL FINALLY…finally makes sense…so much so that I wrote every single thing that I could think of that proves who I am and just why Satan hates me and why Enoch and Thomas S. Monson have been watching over me and why there was a parade in Heaven and why certain animals follow me around and why difficult to describe miracles have happened, and—most of all—my puzzling relationship with Jesus Christ….well, this all feels wasted—like a winning lottery ticket for half a billion dollars which is sadly squished below truckloads of trash and dirt in a landfill on Saturn.

Because a secret such as this needs to be—begs to be shared—yet I know no one on this planet except a few secretive translated beings will actually “get” it.

I send out a desperate plea to the universe—to send me some angels who have observed my life and get it, or some humans who have been moved of the Spirit who’ll get it, or some general authorities who are prepared to receive this great mystery, which I believe God is preparing the Earth for. Or Enoch…my best friend in the whole world. Enoch…..I miss you. I miss your red hair that curled on your forehead, down around your expressive eyes. I missed how you knew how desperately I longed to be understood. I miss how much you love me, and take me seriously. You know me. You truly do. Thank you for praying for me, for weeping to God for me, for truly suffering with me…

I don’t care anymore about how many “followers” I have, or how many “views” I get or how positive or negative they are. I just don’t CARE anymore. I don’t care about my reputation anymore—which one of my heroes, Jordan Peterson, said is your most sacred possession. Well, I happen to disagree. I think your most sacred “possession” is to be known as you are, for who you are, and to be loved by people you look up to…and to be surrounded by them forever.

(Re)learning this frankly horrifying, gigantic and secret truth about myself…well, I don’t care if people put me in mental hospitals for the rest of my life or burn me on a pyre or make it so I wish I’d never been born or whatever else these Satanic people come up with. Lucifer, I know now what you knew in that vision where I literally kicked your ass, and all your general’s asses, too. I know now. And I’m not afraid anymore.

If I’m locked inside a prison cell, He breaks my chains, when I’m laid into the grave He rolls the stone away. When I face my fears and follow Him with all my faith…He gives me strength.

Published by Nicole Marie Hilton

Hi, I'm Nicole. I suffer from amnesia and multiple personalities caused by childhood trauma and a gauntlet of spiritual Satanic abuse. Professionals refer to this as Dissociative Identity Disorder and Satanic Ritual Abuse (DID/SRA). The wounds and evil programming from DID/SRA create a continuing cycle of spiritual, emotional, mental, and social destruction for the victim and their loved ones. Most professional therapists misdiagnose or misunderstand it and do more harm than good. Healing requires plunging the very depths of Christ's atonement for the victims and their loved ones. The process exposes Satan's methods and Christ's power, and this knowledge is essential to anyone seeking to ascend above this mortality. This is the story of my wounding and my ongoing healing with my Savior Jesus Christ.

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