Red Flags And Bad Memories

  It's very simple when you are a child, to trust adults. The ones you trust most are usually your family and close friends of the family. However, after being raised in an environment where people that should be protecting you don't or are unaware, I understand it is of the utmost importance to LEARN awareness of pedophilia and other types of abuse and to TEACH what you learn to your children. Had I been more aware of the signs going on right in front of me, maybe my children's lives would have been different.

In looking back, I am realizing that I had contact with pedophiles as I grew up. There were several times, when I was very young that I sensed inappropriate behavior from adult males that were familiar to me but I wasn't sure how to handle it.
The first time was when I was about 10 or 11 years old. My brother was getting married and he had quite a large group assembled for the reception.
My mother and I had flown in for the big event. Our table was next to one with an older couple. They were both very nice, especially the gentleman. He kept going on about how cute I was, that my brother was lucky to have such a pretty, little sister. Being a self-conscious, anxious kind of kid, I felt very flattered. Here was a nice, old man giving me all this attention. I felt special.
As the night wore on and the liquor flowed, I guess the 'nice man' became less inhibited. I remember standing next to my mother at our table and the man was visibly drunk. He began to ask me to come sit on his lap, and those requests became more insistant. I don't remember what if anything, my mother said, but I DO remember his wife becoming increasingly annoyed. She told him to stop bothering me and finally they went home. There was something about her stern voice to him that made me feel very uncomfortable.

The next time, I was about 13 or so. I used to walk around town at that age, many times by myself, (what were my parents thinking?) and I recall an older, black man by the name of Mr. Mincey, who lived in a shack by himself on one of the side streets. He would always say hello and at times, while he sat on his porch, I would chat about school, what was going on in town, etc. After months of chatting in this way, Mr. Mincey asked me in one day. I thought it was safe. He seemed like a 'nice man.' The scenario began to unfold just like the reception. Mincey sat down at his kitchen table and asked me to sit on his lap...I felt my hair stand on end . I blurted out that I had to go. I ran out as fast as I could...

   The one memory that haunts me still, is my strange visit to see my godfather. I was always drawn to him because he was so amusing. He always had an entertaining story to share! He seemed to be very much 'in the know' about what was going on in the celebrity world. He lived in New York City and was aquainted with some big names. He always seemed lenient with me, non-judgmental.  Many times, he would come over to visit my family and spend the day. Truly, he was one of my favorite people. 

   It was during a visit to his apartment at 17 years of age, that I discovered my godfather was a pedophile. 

I wasn't feeling well at some point in my visit. I had a headache. He went to another room to get something and came back with a stethoscope. He asked me to stand still for a minute so he could listen to my heart. I thought that was a bit strange but I trusted him and sort of laughed it off as him being overly concerned for me. The next thing I knew, he had lifted up my shirt to expose my breast and put the stethoscope to it. I was paralyzed! He just stood there looking at my breast, pretending to 'examine' my heart rate.

   My godfather's behavior was so shocking to me. The whole incident happened so fast. I was taken aback. This man was part of the family. How did this happen? Why? I was confused and scared. Mostly, I was shocked. I was so terribly embarrassed by the whole incident that I was truly at a loss. He came to my family's home a few times afterward but I never felt comfortable around him again.

   My point is this: No one EVER taught me about what not to do. No one explained to me how to see red flags or what to do if things like this came up.  I was unprepared, thinking the world was a safe, happy place. I thought adults would never betray my trust. When things happened, I felt as if somehow I was flawed. I was ashamed and I don't even know why.

The cycle was repeated with my own children. We were a Christian family. All our aquaintences were also Christians. We spent more time in church then anyone. That was supposed to be a safe haven. It was certainly difficult to acknowledge that in this safe haven were people that didn't think twice about abusing a child. Including the pastor himself. Birds of a feather, flock together!

   

Here Are Some Educational Links

Predators In the Pulpit 
    


Anatomy Of A Seduction


Never Admitting Anything


LDS Church and Ritual Abuse?

Testimony From Svali

Please do not forget, there are many stories out there. With the stories come children's issues. We live in a terribly evil time. People are calling good evil and evil good. Be vigilant. We can no longer just trust people because they seem friendly,

Reopening A Wound

It's been three years approximately since my children and I have been reunited. We've been through many changes. It has been a difficult time but also a time of learning and improvements. I would like to say that we are all doing well and that the past is in the past, yet I cannot. Every now and then, something happens: a thought is shared, a tear is shed and you realize that there is still sensitivity in the old wound and it has yet to heal all the way.

After a long, tiring day, my youngest came to me and began sobbing .She was missing her father. She cannot understand why he was as abusive as he was. At this point my mind always goes to the questions,"Is she feeling guilty for telling the truth? Is she unhappy eventhough things are so much better now? How do I erase the pain?"

I try to console her, I try to remind her that it was NEVER her fault that her daddy hurt her. She says she knows but wishes she could talk to him just once...

The whole incident involving child sexual abuses, emotional abuses and spiritual has clearly shook us to the core. If it almost broke me, how much more did it affect this child?  She remembers images of her hand being removed by a policeman from her father's grasp and being led away from her home as she waited for me to come back from work. She was placed in a van with her other minor siblings and taken away in the unmarked vehicle to an unfamiliar place .

I wasn't there to see her go. I still feel like crying when I think back on that awful day My life was flipped upside down and I realized then that it would never be the same again. 

As an adult who has weathered the storm, I can see how it has all worked out for good. I can actively work on setting the trauma aside and learning to be my own person with a new life. To a child, a child like my daughter, the memories persist. 

My youngest goes to counseling. I try to be there for her physically as well as an emotional support, but I wonder if the pain will ever cease? I wonder if in 5 years when she turns of age, if she will rush to her Dad eventhough it was because of him that she was removed.

 Time will tell.

Sometimes just to be heard when you cry out is enough. I pray that will be true for my daughter.

Until then, I will try to be understanding and loving and remind her....it wasn't her fault.

Looking Inward To See Things You'd Rather Ignore

I spent a couple of years at a twelve-step program beginning with my impending seperation from my ex-husband and for sometime before I remarried. The fifth step reads: "Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs." Without this step, healing is almost impossible. 

It's simple to throw stones at others and blame them for ruining my dreams. Yet, I'd often get side-tracked by anger and despair and stop growing. I had become stuck-unable to better myself and move on.

There has to be a catharsis. A time when one must look inward, as objectively as possible and root out ones own evils. That is so hard to do coming from a background where I was the abused. Victimization is something that I had grown so used to that I never expected anything but hardship. Yet that attitude kept me a victim and I lost my will to fight. 
I was blessed that the man in my life reminds me that those scary times are over and I don't have to follow anyone but my own conscience.

 I try to give an account to God about my needs, my shortcomings...let me tell you, sometimes things look pretty ugly. Yet like a gangrenous foot, I have to face my shortcomings and cut them out. You see it is very simple to shut ones' eyes and say, "I had no part in what happened to me," instead of "Could I have done something differently? What was my part in this situation?"
This is called self-exploration. Being honest with one's self and not sugar-coating the truth.

What have I discovered about myself that needs changing? To answer this question, I had to go back in my mind to a time when I first sensed that I was being taught how to be a 'less than.'

The time when as I child I was not taught to stand up for myself, I felt bullied and I had no oversight there...no support. No, that wasn't my fault... yet, I grew up with that 'less than' mentality. Always seeing others as better, prettier, smarter, more capable. I chose partners in my life who were high maintenece people. That made me feel needed I suppose. Co-dependency is my forte'
It was the only way that I could manage any self-esteem. I was great at taking on my ex-partner's ideas, belief systems, etc. Being opinionated and standing up for myself seemed impossible, so I had to embrace his philosophy, his religion because I felt unworthy to be who I really was!

The IFB pastor I had once been married to, was a high profile kind of guy in our small community. He made sure he was well known and either admired or annoying. He was black and white. No gray areas allowed. You either walked his version of the walk or you were most likely not saved or horribly backslidden!

I was his accessory. I was supposed to play the role of the encouraging, Godly, ever-supportive wifey. Always in agreement with my 'hubby' because that was what the Lord expected from a married Christian woman. 

You see, my acceptance of the sick lifestyle I had embraced was part and parcel of the dysfunctional upbringing in my home. As I grew, I self-medicated with drugs, marijuana and alcohol. I got in with the 'loser' crowd and my life stopped progressing. Being a 'pastor's wife' gave me a sense of self-esteem but I had to play the part and give up the things I cared for to be right with God, (according to my ex-husband.)The more I succumbed to this  man's abusive, manipulative nature, the less I had, untill finally all my self-respect was gone.

 When the Department of Children and Families began to investigate our homelife, my children were temporarily placed with their older sibling.  I felt directionless, lost. There was no healthy love of self. When I finally came to grips with the facts, that he molested at least two of my children, I couldn't wrap my mind around the whole thing! I must have been totally out of it not to have known! I blamed myself for his sins. 

So how did the fifth step fit into this?
 "Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs." My healing had to begin with searching myself. How did I allow this man to tell me what is right or wrong? How was it that I embraced his controlling, manipulative lifestyle? What is my weakness? Why do I choose partners that are weak so that they have to bully me and our children in order to prove their power?

Well, in writing down my answers to myself, the next step was to share this with an objective 'somebody,' someone who would listen but be objective.  
I chose someone that I knew worked as a Life Coach and asked her to hear me out and why. She was totally open and supportive. She didn't tell me what a bad woman I was, she simply listened and applauded my efforts to come clean and learn to be honest with myself.

That was a turning point for me. I felt lighter. I said out loud the things I knew were detrimental to my well-being, the things that impeded my progress. I shared them with God and another person. I could now let those things go and truly start over.

Do I still at times fall back into the same patterns? My life has changed quite a bit since this all came about. I still stumble around a bit but week to week, I feel I am moving forward. I am allowing myself to think my own thoughts. I am forgiving myself and trying to turn a new leaf. I am beginning to respect myself again. My depression is still a battle but with my counseling and medication, I have been able to get past the worst of it.

I am learning to say no and to be constructively selfish. I no longer try to please everyone on the planet.
 I am beginning to accept who I am.

Judgment Versus Judging

 There is a difference between having good judgment and being  judgmental. 

Good judgment comes from knowing right and wrong, good and evil. Being judgmental is a form of elitism. Thinking you have all the answers and jumping to conclusions before hearing a person out or getting to know someone before you decide if they should be an aquaintance or an enemy is one of the least used 'Christian' attitudes in fundamentalist doctrine.

If I were going to say one thing about the IFB congregation, it would be that they have learned to be judgmental but they have forgotten good judgment . I've had more than one 'ice pick in the back' experience with my years as an IFB'er . If it hadn't been for the pastor's abusive ways, there is a good chance that I may have eventually left our church anyway. It was beginning to feel more like a prison than a church. Hearing how we had it over everybody else, how if we dress godly, do all the things that other IFB'ers do and lest we forget... put the woman in her place, shows just how little of God's word is really understood by these people. 

I am by no means a bible scholar or (spare me Lord) a theologian. Yes, I've had a lot of training. I've had a lot of elitist dogma pushed down my throat, but I know that after the brain-fog lifted and I started thinking for myself, I realized that what I was reading out of my old KJV was NOT what I was taught. The reason? I was taught to see things in a specific pattern and not by reading God's word line by line without all the static.

  Read this particular set of verses in the Bible, " I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour; Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time. (1 Timothy 2:1-6)

The words above do not sound like hate-speech! We are to pray, beg God for a peaceable life even for our oppressors. We are to pray for them and give thanks to God that we have the opportunity to do so! Who is the judge? The mediator between God and man....Christ Jesus! It's not hard to understand. How many people would the Lord save if they were accepting? ALL! 

How can we witness to the lost or be any kind of example, if all we do is call people names and say that it's what Jesus would do? How can a so-called street preacher yell and scream about how God hates this or that when we show no relationship with the Son? If God is love as the Bible quotes and we are to be part of His family, it is up to us to reflect that compassion, that earnest spirit of giving, forgiveness and meekness to those who have an interest. Not to those that don't want to listen. Those who don't want to listen are not our worry. WE ARE NOT THEIR JUDGES.

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Our duty is compassion. That word springs up many times, in the Old Testament and the New Testament. Elitism has no place in a man or woman's heart if you want to be of service to God.  All it does is set one up for a great, big, FALL!