Duggary Buggary

Unless you live under a rock, chances are you have heard about the Josh Duggar debacle. Josh is the oldest of the 19 children of Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar. He is also the now former executive director of FRC action. FRC action is the legislative branch of the Family Research Council. 

In a nutshell (though I included the link to the original story above), Josh molested four of his younger sisters and one other girl from another family.  He was 14, 15 at the time. His youngest victim was 5.  He fondled their genitals, buttocks, and breasts, usually while they were asleep but sometimes while reading to them. The Duggars are part of a Christian fundamental Baptist sect with ties to Bill Gothard and the Patriarchial wing of the Quiverful movement. In true Fundamentalist fashion, the abuse was not reported to the proper authorities immediately and therapists specializing in sexual abuse were not acquired. Jim Bob and Michelle first went to their church family about the situation nearly a year after they were made aware of what was happening. The abuse was then told to a family friend after a year who was a police officer. This police officer gave Josh a "stern talking to" and no formal charges were filed. Josh was then sent to work on a church members house to do a few months worth of remodeling as penance for his misdeeds. His statement says that he received counseling and that his victims did as well. 

"Twelve years ago, as a young teenager, I acted inexcusably for which I am extremely sorry and deeply regret. I hurt others, including my family and close friends," Josh, 27, tells PEOPLE in a statement. "I confessed this to my parents who took several steps to help me address the situation. We spoke with the authorities where I confessed my wrongdoing, and my parents arranged for me and those affected by my actions to receive counseling. I understood that if I continued down this wrong road that I would end up ruining my life." 

Notice the last sentence. "I understood that if I continued down this wrong road that I would end up ruining my life." He understood that he would end up ruining his life. Not his victim's lives, his life. While his actions may not have "ruined" his victims lives, they certainly impacted them negatively, forever. This part of his statement is very telling of the selfishness and entitlement that this young man still has.

I'm reminded of a scene in True Blood where Sookie is intimate with Bill for the first time, and she has a flashback to a time where her uncle fondled her as a child and it interrupts the mood. She relates to him about the incident and tells him that she can't help it, that she can still feel him touching her when Bill touches her and that she hates that. Bill holds her close and tells her that she is safe with him, that he is honored that she would share herself with him after that happened to her. I realize that True Blood is fiction, but the scene is commonplace for abuse survivors. That scene struck a chord with me when I saw it several years ago because that is a very real struggle for those of us who have sexual abuse in our past. Sadly, I can confirm that this sort of thing happens to me quite often. I don't always express it to my husband, because by now I am so used to it that I brush it aside and go forward, knowing that that feeling will subside or dissipate most of the time. If it doesn't, I let him know and we stop.

And then Bill has him some Uncle Pedo as a snack later.

I think of those little girls in their beds at night before it was all revealed, the fear that must have gripped them nightly, wondering if their brother would be visiting them again? Then I think of when it was revealed to the parents, and how they momentarily may have thought that something might be done, only to have to endure Bill Gothard style counseling where they were asked what they may have done to entice their brother to sin and then asked to repent of that. I imagine these things, and imagine how they were made to forgive him because not doing so would be a sin, and I am so sad for those beautiful little girls. I am angry at their parents for not protecting them from their abuser, for making them continue to live under the same roof with him when he was not getting proper counseling.

I have had some people ask me why we shouldn't forgive him of this mistake. After all, we all make mistakes as kids, as teens, and we don't want that to follow us our whole lives, do we? There are some big problems with this logic.

First, this was not a "mistake". This was five different girls, all of whom were more than three years younger than him (Arkansas state law states that if the victim is three years or more younger than the perpetrator, then it does not matter the age of the perpetrator or if they are related, they have committed a crime.) Penetrating or parting the labia is considered sexual assault in Arkansas, as it should be.Therefore, Josh is a criminal. A criminal who his parents protected above their daughters. A mistake is smoking in the boy's room at church. A mistake is doing this maybe once, with one person, realizing how awful it is that you did that, and never doing it again. A mistake is shoplifting candy from a store. A mistake is playing hooky from class. This was not a mistake. This was a predator, even though he was young, preying on young girls for his own sexual pleasure and curiosity.

These dresses, those are mistakes, yikes!

The next thing that has been brought up is what would you do if this happened in your family? What if it were my son? I can answer this, quite honestly, being the mother of five boys and one daughter. I would call the police on my son if I found out that he had been molesting his little sister and had done it to four other girls as well over a period of nearly 2 years. No questions about it. I might not even call, I might simply take him down to the station. It would be hard, it would be heartbreaking. I would go to his trial if there was one, I would agree to let him get whatever treatment that was offered. I would not bring him home. He would either have to go into the system or go to a relative's house. He could not come home with me, maybe not ever again. Most likely not ever again. I would always love him, but I would not support him like I would my other children. I would get my daughter therapy and would not expose her to her brother ever again unless she specifically requested it.

The last thing I have heard is that this happened over a decade ago. So? Your point is? When it happened is immaterial. In fact, if anything the fact that it happened before the show was signed into contract but they kept that a secret while portraying themselves as living the ideal christian life is disgusting. This one is tied in with a "poor Duggars, they forgave Josh a long time ago now you are persecuting them and exposing his victims!" Just stop. I'll address the forgiveness angle a bit later. I'm not persecuting them and no one else is either. They should be called on this abysmal behaviour. They should be exposed for the frauds that they are. Christians should not back up other Christians who break the law so blatantly and who so fundamentally disrespect women like this group does. These people are hypocrites who won't let their daughters go on a date alone or kiss before their wedding day but make them stay in a house with a known child molester.

People are having a hard time seeing a 14, 15 year old boy as a criminal. I get that. He was a teen, he was not a man. He was also sick and did not get help. He now has little girls. Let that sink in. He is now a grown man with daughters the age of some of his victims. Repeat offenses are low in young people who get help with pedophilia, the same can not be said for those who do not get help. If anything, the way this was handled would have helped him to see how to better hide what he does and then how to get out of it if he is discovered.

Too soon? Michelle Duggar did a robocall trying to get people to vote against allowing transgendered people to use the bathroom of the gender that they identify as, because they might sexually assault your child. 

The revelations on Josh Duggar were not particularly shocking to me. There have been rumors about this possibility circulating the internet for years. I haven't addressed them before because they were just that, rumors. I'm not interested in rumors, I'm interested in facts. 

I'd suggest reading the following links:
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/lovejoyfeminism/2015/05/what-you-need-to-know-about-the-josh-duggar-police-report.html

and
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/leavingfundamentalism/2015/05/22/josh-duggar-apologised-so-what/

and the best timeline laid out simply here
http://defamer.gawker.com/the-web-has-known-about-josh-duggar-for-years-when-did-1706258269

I'm not going to link to the moronic supporters of the Duggars. And yes, if you are supporting Josh, or defending the inactions or actions of his parents, you are wrong for doing so. I'm talking to the Matt Walsh supporters, the Huckabee backers, the  Ron Comfort sympathizers. You are supporting people who think it's ok for Christians to cover up sexual abuse.

What bothers me about all of the people who want us to forgive Josh Duggar and want us to stop "revictimizing" his victims, is that they obviously don't understand the severity of what sexual abuse does to women. They don't understand the culture of purity that is inherent in the Fundamental church and how it permanently damages those of us who survive it even if we aren't sexually or otherwise abused. They don't understand fully how dangerous the Patriarchy within these sects is and how women are not permitted to feel anything but happy. Keeping the abuse a secret was the re victimization, not the revelation necessarily. I wish that one of his victims had been the ones to tell this tale, but that is not how it works in the fundamental Christian world. I am not happy that the way this was revealed meant that we know who his victims were without their being the ones to tell it. That doesn't seem fair, but it's better for lies to be exposed than buried.

this might be unfair if we didn't see it so often...

I believe that I have touched on this before, but anger is simply not permitted in the fundamental sects of Christianity where patriarchy is the rule. Sadness is a sin. Trauma is a reluctance on the part of the person having gone through it to accept God's grace and peace.

The other thing that bothers me about people wanting us to forgive Josh Duggar is that it is not our place to forgive him. He didn't wrong us personally. His victims may forgive him, but we shouldn't be expected to do so and to say that we forgive him is a slap in the face to his victims.

I am very suspect of the validity of the forgiveness that his victims purportedly gave to him. Remember that within quiverfull fundamentalist families such as the Duggars, to not forgive is a sin. It is very simply not done. 

The Duggar girls would have been given Gothard training materials from ATI on this subject, training materials that very explicitly put blame on the vicitims of sexual abuse as well as on the perpetrator. The page below is from Gothard's ATI, which is where Josh and the Duggar girls reportedly went for counseling. Now, apart from the obvious theological problems with this (gnosticism is what it looks like to me, more than Christianity with the spirit thing at the center, but I am off topic with that), the blaming of the victim and the requirement for forgiveness is evil. Pure evil.

Let's go back to that robocall, shall we? Here's what Michelle Duggar said in that call: "Hello, this is Michelle Duggar. I’m calling to inform you of some shocking news that would affect the safety of Northwest Arkansas women and children. The Fayetteville City Council is voting on an ordinance this Tuesday night that would allow men – yes, I said men – to use women's and girls' restrooms, locker rooms, showers, sleeping areas and other areas that are designated for females only. I don’t believe the citizens of Fayetteville would want males with past child predator convictions that claim they are female to have a legal right to enter private areas that are reserved for women and girls. I doubt that Fayetteville parents would stand for a law that would endanger their daughters or allow them to be traumatized by a man joining them in their private space. We should never place the preference of an adult over the safety and innocence of a child. Parents, who do you want undressing next to your daughter at the public swimming pool’s private changing area?" 

One sentence in this also stands out to me. "I doubt that Fayetteville parents would stand for a law that would endanger their daughters or allow them to be traumatized by a man joining them in their private space." Oh really Michelle? Didn't you endanger your daughters and allow them to be traumatized by a young man joining them in their private space?

The lion's share of the blame in this situation rests with Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar. It also rests in the Fundamentalist and Quiverfull patriarchy mentality that they follow. Blame can squarely rest on Josh's shoulders since he is the actual perpetrator, but at the same time he is the product of his environment and was not given help. When you worship the god of purity, chastity, modesty, and fertility and claim that those gods are the proof and measure of the real God, you will reap what you sow. And what you sow is sadness, hypocrisy, and corruption.

Let's talk about sex...

My mom wasn't ready for a lot of things when it came to my growing up. As a mother now, I can somewhat understand, it's difficult when your babies stop being babies and they grow into a new phase of life. We aren't always ready for that. But I've learned that it's much better to stay a step ahead, instead of meandering behind the curve.

We never had "the talk". Well, my mother attempted it once, when I was 16, but it was a disastrous attempt. And quite frankly, by the time I was 16, it was much too late. She and I were in the parking lot at K-Mart, about to go inside for some shopping when she asked me if I had any questions about sex. I was mortified. No, I insisted, I did not have any questions, I already knew everything. She seemed shocked. "Everything? What does that mean? Have you...?" "No Mom, I haven't! Now please, let's drop it." Mercifully, she did. K-Mart parking lots are not optimal locations for beginning sex talks with your teens.

You see, in my family, we didn't talk about sex. Ever. I didn't know the proper terms for body parts until Doc started molesting me and told me what they were. I got my formative sex education from him unfortunately. I wish my mother had set aside some time to sit down with me, in a normal setting, to talk to me about my body, and a man's body, and the mechanics of sex as well as birth control. And, that conversation should have started when I was much younger. But, that didn't happen.

My sister was the one that let me in on what a period was. I didn't get my period until much later, when I was 16, which was probably what prompted my mother to suddenly decide that she needed to have "the talk" with me. My sister in earlier years, being seven and a half years older than I was, told me all about them. The monthly curse, she called it. Told me about pads and how long the bleeding lasted and about monster cramps and bloating. Lovely. I was also told that my mother would not allow us to purchase tampons because we were maidens and nothing was supposed to go up there until our wedding night.

I didn't quite get that logic, and neither did my sister. My sister did eventually get my mom to allow her to purchase some on occasion if she was going swimming but my mother wasn't thrilled about it.

My sister did get "the talk", about the time that she got her first period. She related this experience with me, and it wasn't great. Most kids are a bit embarrassed to talk to their parents about sex, that's normal to an extent. My mom gave her some Christian based book about being feminine and told my sister that sex was "pleasant". To this day, my sister and I will giggle about things that are "pleasant".

The other place that I got my early information about sex was from the church. It was preached that women should always give in to their husband's desires, unless it was for a time of prayer and fasting that the two of them had agreed upon beforehand. If a woman denied her husband, it was a sin, and she was setting him up to have an affair. If he had an affair, it was fair game for him to blame his wife for being unavailable or unattractive to him. There was absolutely no room for sex outside of marriage, or for masturbation. Masturbation was an evil because of the possibility of your thought life during the act being questionable and sinful. Homosexuality was an abomination, and often the result of demon possession.

There was a great deal of pressure put on all of us girls in particular to stay pure. Purity culture is not a new thing, it's a very old thing. I know, I lived it. As a girl, it was my responsibility to save my vagina for marriage at all costs. It was also my responsibility not to cause any of my Christian brothers to "stumble" by how I dressed. If I tempted them by my dress, it was my fault that he had impure thoughts or had pressed his desires upon me. It's a lot of pressure.

A lot of pressure.

By the time I was 12, I still considered myself a virgin, since Doc had not, in my view, raped me yet. In my IFB viewpoint, because he had not penetrated my vagina with his penis, I was still a virgin.

Looking back now, that is not at all the case. Making another person perform oral sex or performing oral sex on them is rape. Masturbating another person or having them masturbate you against their will is rape.

But, my sheltered upbringing did not prepare me for what was going on. It would have been good to have the following information:

1. What were the proper names of body parts?
2. When is it ok for someone else to touch your body?
3. When is it not ok for someone else to touch your body?
4. What is oral sex?
5. What is masturbation?
6. What is anal sex?
7. What constitutes sexual assault or sexual abuse?
8. What is menstruation?
9. When can a girl get pregnant?
10. What are STI's and how do you prevent them?
11. What is an orgasm?
12. What happens when a woman orgasms?
13. What happens when a man orgasms?
14. What is pornography?
15. What is homosexuality?
16. What is abstinence?
17. What is casual sex?
18. What are sex toys?
19. What are the slang terms for various types of sex and body parts?
20. What happens when a woman gives birth?

Please parents, I implore you, talk to your children about all of these things. And start young. Always use the proper terminology with them for body parts. From the very beginning do this. Predators will use your child's innocence against them if you don't do this. As the child grows and starts asking more direct questions, provide direct answers. By the time your child is ten, they should know the answers to all of the above questions.

You might be thinking that you can't address all of that with your child without being embarrassed by the subject matter. 

Get over it.

If you don't do it, someone else will, and you may not approve of how they school your child in sexuality. Trust me, I've had the talk now four times and in a couple years will have that talk with my daughter. Each of my sons have had lengthy discussions with me about sex and we have laid it all out on the table. It's a subject that we can go back to at any time when they have any questions. We have an implicit trust between us that I did not enjoy with my parents. When my sons have had any sexual experience, I have been privy to it. They can tell me anything, without fear of judgement from me. Trust me, it is better to know what is going on with your child than to not know.

I've also made sure that my son's know that No, means No, in any circumstances. I don't care if the girl is stark naked and you're in bed with her if she says no then you stop. They know this, they respect women and would not force themselves upon a woman. 

Edited to add: They also know that it is important to have consent and that only yes means yes. Thanks for pointing that out Jen. :)

Having boys has taught me that they are responsible for their thought life, and only they are responsible. They are responsible for their actions, and only they are responsible. 

Oh, and one other thing I've made sure to discuss with my sons, is the importance of giving their partner an orgasm. She cums first. I've been very detailed about the female anatomy with them and I hope that by doing so, they have happy, healthy sex lives in the future. 

Being the children of a midwife, my children are surrounded by sexuality and birth. Pregnant women and their nurslings come in and out of our home on a regular basis. They are well versed in the nuances of pregnancy and birth. They view pregnancy and birth as a healthy function and not a disease to be treated, but a condition to be monitored and supported. I believe this to also be an essential part of their sexual education.

In closing, talk to your children about sex, every aspect of it. Don't be afraid of the subject! Everyone, even precious little Johnny or Sally, will have sex at some point or another in their life. As with all things, more knowledge is better than none or not enough. Talking to them about sex is not going to make them sexually active or promiscuous. It will empower them about their own body.

Mr. Hotstuff

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Two pink lines, a reason to spiritually abuse and coerce?

It was the middle of July in 1994, the year I had graduated from high school and turned 18. My fiance William, who was just shy of 20, was sitting out in his parent's car, waiting for me to come out of the convenience store bathroom. We were planning on marrying in another 2-4 years, depending on when he and I finished our college/higher education. I sat in the end stall of the public toilet, jeans crumpled around my ankles.The first response pregnancy test was firmly clutched in my fingers as I watched the moisture race up the inner test strip. 

One line.

Now two.

Shit.

I got up from the toilet  and set the test on the back of the toilet, simultaneously pulling up my drawers and pants while tearing out the package insert. "Read the results after 3 minutes." it said. 

I looked at my watch. One more minute.

A minute later, still two lines, though now definitely darker. I started to tear up, and the all too familiar nausea that had accompanied my crying since I was 10 began as well. I quashed both the crying and the nausea as I was so versed at doing by now and stuffed the plastic wand into my small black leather purse.

Outside, I got into the blue Grand Marquis's passenger side and sighed. Garth Brooks playing on the radio, the faint smell of upholstery cleaner, old cigarettes, and Will's Drakkar Noir wafted around me inside the car.

"Well?" William asked, his hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

"I'm pregnant." I said, pulling out the stick with the offending lines to offer as proof.

"Fuck. Our parents are going to kill us."

"I know." I did start to cry then. Heaving shoulders, sobs of brokenness and anguish. I'd ruined everyone's life. I had no idea how to be anyone's mother. I was a slut. I was bringing disgrace and shame onto my parents.

William softened, and pulled me over to him, "It's ok, baby. We'll figure this out. I love you." He held me tightly and cried with me, and I know he was just as terrified as I was, but he tried to act like he'd take care of everything and it was all going to be just fine. I let him lie to me on this, the lie was better than the glaring truth.

Over the next week Will and I spent a ton of time on the phone when I'd get home from the bank where I worked as a teller. I had just gotten this job a few weeks prior, and it bored me to tears but was better than McDonald's. My parents thought it was a grand opportunity for me, though the pressure to chose a Christian college for was crushing. I'd been offered scholarships at BBC, Pensacola, Clearwater, and Bob Jones Perversity (oh sorry, University). Their preference was BJU, mine was BBC if I absolutely had no choice. What I really wanted to do was follow my best friend Keadren to cosmetology school and give that a try. My parents had begrudgingly agreed to let me work for a while before I chose, but they expected me to enroll and start at a Baptist Christian college in the spring semester at the latest. 

The prospect of shipping off to Bob Jones Penitentiary was more than I could bear. I'd been to BJU, walked the halls, the grounds, slept in the dorm rooms, ate the food, met the students and a lot of the faculty. We went to BJU yearly once I joined the choir for competitions held on the campus. Bob Jones still had barbed wire around some of the walls of the compound at the "fortress of faith". Freshman weren't allowed to leave the campus. Demerits were given for so many minor infractions. A strict dress code was in place. Mandatory Bible classes, church attendance, and chapel services were a must. Interracial dating was specifically banned. Rumors of covered up sexual offenses swirled around the institution. There was also this weird courting parlor place for people who were dating to go to to be observed by faculty while they were eating together to be sure no physical contact happened between the sexes. 

I very much felt like my parents desperately wanted to send me off to there so they could "fix me" and so that I would find someone to date other than William. I had a streak of rebellion in me and a simmering anger towards them and our church that I couldn't quite place my finger on as to why it had become so palpable in that last year or two.

On Friday, I sat on the asphalt in my parents driveway beside William's car in the only shady spot available, beneath the large carport at the front of the house. My parents weren't home. We needed to plan.

"You know, there is one other option, and I hesitate to bring it up..." William sheepishly started. "If you wanted to do that... I'd support you, and I'd help you pay for it."

"I know. I just..." my voice trailed off. 

"I know, I wasn't even sure if I should even say anything about it."

"No, I  understand, it is a legal option. And we're both over 18 so our parents wouldn't have to know. I get the appeal, trust me, I do. I just can't. I can't kill it. It's not its fault that we messed up."

"We didn't 'mess up', Jen. All babies are God's blessings!" Will straightened up a bit, offended. "I'm actually kind of excited about this."

"You're an idiot." I took out a cigarette and lit it.

"You shouldn't smoke, it's not good for the baby." he scowled.

I looked around him at the bottle maker's mark on the floor of the beat up '84 Mustang I had recently bought him. He saw what I was looking at and narrowed his eyes. "It's Rainbow's." He insisted. 

"Sure."

(Rainbow was actually his friend "Rambo" - also not his real name- who did have a drinking problem but was a good friend of his. Unfortunately, Rainbow shared his booze with Will all the time.)

"Besides, what I do doesn't effect your body or my baby." he stated, shoving the bottle further under the seat.

I took another drag. "Well we can't hide this forever. I'm tired all the time now and I was a little sick this morning. My mom is bound to notice."

"You've been smoking while living here with them for over two years and they haven't noticed that."

"That's different, I'm careful. My smoking isn't going to manifest itself in a 30 lb weight gain and bigger boobs."

He grinned, "Bigger boobs?"

"Shut up, I'm serious."

"So am I." he winked at me.

"Good news is, no Bob Jones for me." I smiled triumphantly at that.

"Thank God, that place is a hellhole."

"So, do we tell our parents?" I asked, exhaling the smoke as I spoke.

"Are you kidding me? No way. They'll make us get married right away or they'll try to get us to break up and make us give up the baby. And no matter what we'll end up "confessing our sins" to your church and mine in public and be treated like second class shit. We've both seen it, we know that's what happens. Your parents and mine will be embarrassed and think that they are crap parents. Your mom's mental and emotional health will get even worse than it has been and she'll use this situation to make herself out to be a martyr. That's why I brought up abortion. And that's the only reason, ok? I don't believe in it and I know you don't either but what choice do we actually have here?"

I knew he was right. We couldn't tell them. So, we came up with a really horrible plan while sitting there. And I mean horrible in the way that it not only wasn't well thought out, but also was selfish and hurtful to others. 

I left in the middle of the night the following week. My parents woke up the next morning to find me gone. I'd left a note telling them Will and I were running off to Maryland to elope and that I'd call them in a few days.

My mother was frantic, she called Will's mother in a panic demanding to know if she knew where we were, which she didn't. I'm not sure she even knew Will was gone yet.

We didn't elope though. We had enough sense about us to know that we weren't ready for marriage. We ran off and spent what little money we had on a hotel room and for a few days and nights the whole outside world was gone. It was all very romantic and very impulsive and oh so exciting.

Will called his mom after he found us a room to stay in at the house that his friend Rainbow rented a room at. He had lived in this place before with his family, but they had had the apartment downstairs. We had a room, and that was it. It was all we could possibly afford. He worked for his dad's dental lab and made very little. I made very little. We had no savings. I didn't drive. His mother chewed him out for a bit and then demanded that I call my mother, she was tired of having to field her daily calls asking if she'd heard from me.

I called my mom. Her first question after are you ok was to ask if I was pregnant. I lied. She asked if we had indeed gotten married. I lied again.

We kept lying like this to everyone until mid September. Only my closest friends knew that we weren't married. I lost my job because I had morning sickness so badly that I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. Will's Pastor did some digging and found out that we hadn't been married in Maryland, or anywhere else for that matter. 

The confrontation was not fun. First the Pastor had us stay after church one Sunday and he very gleefully laid out how he had been calling various courthouses to confirm that we weren't married. He seemed to expect us to crumble in front of him. 

William laughed at him. 

"Ok, so we aren't married. So what? We aren't ready to be married yet but we want to be together and if we were simply living together we wouldn't be allowed to come to church here, we'd be thrown out."

"You're about to be thrown out now, if you don't repent!"

"Repent of what?"

"Fornication, lying, and Jen, you're pregnant aren't you?" Pastor Stickman accused.

Suddenly, I didn't like him, didn't like this church, didn't like these people. And for a moment, I didn't give a flying fuck what he thought about me, about Will, about anything.

"Yes. I am. I'm sorry about the lying but we didn't see any other way." I responded.

"I'm going to have to call your parents when we're done here and tell them, unless you want to do it?" He said.

"You don't have to do any such thing." I said. "I'm an adult, you have no right to do this."

"Oh yes I do, you two have been coming to my church and he is a member here." He motioned to William.

We left and Pastor Stickman did indeed call my parents. And Will's parents. Then on Monday he showed up at our boarding house with a deacon to confront him again. I stayed inside for this one, William wouldn't let them talk to me. Rainbow came out and helped William run them off. Baptists are no match for half drunk, pissed off, ex-marines.

When they left I ventured outside to sit at the picnic table with William. 

"Well?"

"We have a meeting tomorrow with Stickman, your parents, and my parents. That is, if we want to show up. They're going to be discussing our church discipline."

"Do you want to go?"

"I think we should. Maybe we can get them to listen to us. My Dad and Mom are more laid back then yours. They're pissed that we lied but that's about it. I think I can reason with my Dad."

"And my parents?"

"Your mom's not taking this too well according to Stickman. Your Dad is livid with me."

I sighed. "Understandable."

"It's stupid. They want me to get up in front of the church and confess our sins or else they are kicking me out and they won't ever recommend me to another church. I won't be allowed back on the church property. He's telling my family to cut us off from all support, financial and otherwise. My Dad won't let me work for him anymore apparently if I don't repent. He says that they have to separate themselves from us if we don't comply. Stickman said he spoke to Dick and he agrees. Pastor Dick said he'd help us find a good christian family to adopt our baby if we were willing but that you have to go home. Dick wants you to get up in front of your church and do the same thing about confessing like I do." he took a breath, " And it's not understandable that your Dad is livid with me. It's not like I assaulted you, unlike what happened with Doc, why wasn't he 'livid' about that, huh?!"

He had a point about my Dad. This situation was somehow a bigger deal to my parents and my church then when I had told my folks that Doc had molested me for three years. 

Dick was my pastor. Of course he would agree. And his answer to all unwed mothers was to keep them out of public view and then have them give up their babies. 

Rainbow took a swig of his beer and handed William a can. "Baptists suck ass."

Will and I laughed. It was sadly true.

"I don't think you should go." Rainbow said. "Fuck 'em"

"I think we should Rainbow. Maybe when we explain that this is just what we feared would happen then they will listen?" I said.

He grunted. "Doubtful. Why you should have heard them out here preaching at Willy, twistin' the Bible and yappin' about how they had to follow what it said and they had no choice and other such bullshit."

"Well according to how they interpret the Bible they do." I said.

"Exactly. Don't go. They don't know how to think about anything without that book open in front of them. Most brain damaged people I've ever met in my life and I was in 'Nam! Where's the humanity? Where's the compassion? And you two aren't little kids! You two need help and support right now, not judgement and coercion!"

We went to the meeting. 

It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life.

We caved. 

My mother's crying and my Dad's glaring eyes told me there was no room for any sort of negotiation. I had so wronged them by lying about this that they had no choice but to agree with the Pastors. They were in a spiritual battle for our souls and lives from their point of view. It didn't matter that I was sorry about lying or why we felt compelled to lie. Will's parents were so afraid of what the people in their church would think about them if Will didn't confess that they said they would cut ties with us. Will's Dad and my Mom really didn't seem to like that prospect but I think they were trying to stay a united front. My parents and his said something about how they'd always love us but that until we got right with God they'd have to separate from us.

They all insisted that I come home, that day, and that Will and I get married within the next few weeks. I also had to have a meeting with my Pastor later on that week to get things straight with him and go over my options.

I went back home and for the first time my parents saw the squalid room that I had been living in with William. We stopped by there for me to pick up a few things before heading back to Quakertown. Will and I shared a bathroom with all of the other residents. There was no kitchen. Our room was a 10 by 12 room with a mattress on the floor, a small table shoved against the wall, a small set of shelves with a crockpot and single burner for cooking, and a dresser by the one window that had no screen and didn't open all the way. We had propped a fan in the window for ventilation at least. When my mother gingerly picked up the mattress a mouse ran out from under it. It was living in our mattress. "You would have rather stayed here, with him, then to have been at home with us?" She was appalled.

"Yes."

"Really? Was it worth all of these lies?" she asked as her brow furrowed in disgust and disappointment.

I wanted to say yes and no, that although these last couple of months had been tough, I'd so enjoyed being on my own away from them and only going to church once a week, if that, instead of three times. Yes, Will was controlling, and his drinking bothered me. William's often controlling behaviour seemed to be pretty much the same thing that I'd experienced at home, only a different flavor. I'd exchanged one form of control for another, but I didn't know anything different existed. My reservations about him were part of why I didn't want to marry him yet. I loved him, but it didn't feel right to marry him at that time. Neither of us was mature enough to handle all of this.

Instead, I didn't answer her, I just apologized again for hurting her. I was sorry about that, I didn't like lying to them. I didn't like hiding my pregnancy from her. I was wrong to do that. I should have been honest with her and my Dad. I wish I felt that I could have trusted them with that. But I didn't. We didn't have that type of relationship then.

My meeting with Pastor Dick was awkward, and it was awful. I think at first we started out with my parents in there with me, and then it was just he and I, though that part is a bit fuzzy. It's been 20 years after all. Certain things I remember with clarity, others just with generalities. 

I had a meeting with he and William at some point as well. He really tried to push for William and I to give up our baby. He said that if we did that than we wouldn't HAVE to get married. If we kept the baby we had no choice. He said that if we didn't get married, I certainly couldn't be a good single mother because single moms didn't do a good job of raising their children, that statistically children in two parent homes are more secure. He told us that he could find a good christian family to adopt our baby. We told him no thank you. We were keeping our baby. In the meeting with Will and I, he asked to speak with me alone, and Will left to go back to his house. My Mom would drive me back home later, William and I weren't allowed to be alone together during this time, lest we fornicate again.

After Will left, Dick came around to the front of his desk and sat in the chair beside me, "Jeney, I have to ask you a few questions."

By this time, I just wanted all of this to be over, so whatever, bring it on, I can weather this.

"Yes?"

"You know that I know about what happened to you in Ohio, with the deacon over there?" he asked.

"Former Deacon, he was my family doctor, and my parent's best friend. But yes, I know. I'm not happy that you know, but I know." I said, sitting further back into the chair. He was too close to me, I didn't like this.

"Be that as it may...do you think that because of what happened to you, that it made you promiscuous?"

I was floored. How does one answer that? Promiscuous? I was engaged to William when we conceived, I had not had any sort of sex with any other man other than William and my abuser.

"I...I...don't know how to answer that. Will is the only guy I've been with so...?"

He persisted, "Yes but, often when children are sexually abused, it causes them to have risky behaviours sexually so I was wondering if you thought that you being abused caused you to sleep with William?"

Now I was mad. "No, I had sex with him because I love him and I liked it. It had nothing to do with Doc."

"Are you sure? You can tell me, it wouldn't surprise me." he leaned in a bit, and seemed so sure of what he was saying.

"Look, I don't know. I never thought about it."

"Oh, that brings me to another question, one I have thought about for a long time." He sat back. 

I don't like this. I don't like this. I don't like this. I really wanted to run out of there, I didn't care if he was the "Lord's anointed" he was being an inappropriate prick. But, I didn't say anything. I'd been conditioned all my life not to say or do anything to men in power within the church or home.

"I have always wondered," he continued,"When you were younger... and I'm asking since I wasn't your Pastor then so I don't know how things were in Ohio... and you look back at that time, do you feel like you in any way may have dressed inappropriately or acted in a manner which may have caused this man to desire you?"

"No. I was like 10, 11, 12." was all I could muster.

"No?"

"No. Can I go now?"

He looked disappointed, "Are you sure? Sometimes we have hidden sins and if you have any now would be a good time to disclose them. We can pray together as you are on your way to this new start in your life."

"No."

"Alright, see you on Wednesday, I'll call you up after the service to say your confession."

Will had his confession on Sunday. It was awful. I don't know how he got through that, standing up there in front of everyone, knowing that if he didn't, he'd lose everything including his job. All the church people forgave us and we went home. I cried all night. I hated having to see him like that, he was so defeated. The church people thought it was beautiful. It wasn't beautiful, it was devastating. They broke him.

Will came to my church for Wednesday. Pastor Dick never called me up after the service. To this day I don't know why. I sat through that prayer meeting barely able to breathe knowing full well what was coming, trying not to cry and knowing or thinking that most of the church already knew and that everyone felt so badly for Pastor F and his family (my family). It was such a shame. I was such a shame. William was pissed about my not having to go up. Pissed because he had to do it and I didn't. I was selfishly relieved. Eventually Will would say that he was glad that I didn't have to go through with that, that neither one of us should have had to endure that.

We got married at my parents house, with my father officiating in October. I wore the purple dress that I had been planning on wearing to my senior banquet the prior year but I hadn't gotten to go. I wasn't allowed to wear white. William had just turned 20 and wore his best suit. My mom put together a nice little informal get together and we had a cake and some presents and it was all as lovely as it could be under the circumstances. My mom always knows how to throw together a beautiful party for any occasion.

Our parents had helped us find an apartment that was under a house that one of our church members lived at. It was a very nice starter home in Coopersburg. Raymond, the absolute joy of my life arrived on Valentines Day.

About 8 months after we moved in we were evicted. It was the first of many evictions. Williams drinking worsened. He couldn't hold down a job to save his life (36 jobs in 5 years). He wouldn't allow me to work. He didn't want me on birth control. He developed a gambling addiction. He developed a drug addiction. We separated, we got back together. Pastor Stickman told me I couldn't divorce him, even though he could see that he had an "anger problem" and encouraged me to be more submissive and pray more. Will's girlfriend had a baby. I had another son, Taylor, my amazing rock, who arrived on the day that I took his father to court for child support. We got back together again. We separated. His drinking worsened, his yelling increased. He got better. We got back together. We moved. We found a great church, William was sober, I was hopeful. He started using again. I had an affair. William found out. We stayed together. He became more controlling. I became pregnant. He joined the Army, then left the Army. He began drinking again. He wouldn't go to AA or acknowledge that he had a problem. His parents wouldn't acknowledge that he had a problem. He helped me pack up and I left him for the last time pregnant, with our two small boys in tow. I had our third son, Joseph, my sensitive life saving boy, and then I divorced William.

Will was bipolar. He used alcohol, the church, substances, sex, gambling, me, anything he could to try and stay sane. It didn't work. I didn't know anything about mental illnesses or alcoholism and I didn't know for sure if I was or wasn't being abused most of the time. I didn't know how to help him and our churches didn't equip us in any way to get him or I help. I struggled with sometimes severe depression and ptsd during those five years. 

I loved him very much and today he and I are good friends. He has gotten clean and sober and has a good life in Michigan with his wife. 

But looking back, he and I never should have been forced into marriage. It harmed us and our children. It was very hard on our extended families. My parents were always kind enough to take me back in when he and I would separate but it was five years of back and forth that wasn't fair to them either. My Pastor had no reason to question me like he did. It was inappropriate and uncalled for.