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Published with permission by Kate
By Kate August 2007 Today,
marks exactly 18 months, since I told on my Pastor. When I told on him, I had fears and regrets. Now, all these
months later, I am fully confident that keeping his secret was wrong, and exposing the truth is what brought me complete
freedom. His explanation for what
took place..."a consensual affair, between two grown people." The truth of what happened...Pastoral (or Clergy)
Sexual Abuse. For a stretch of
about 4 years, our family - which consisted of my husband and myself, and our 4 children - attended a small Baptist Church.
We were welcomed with open arms, and quickly became involved in nearly all the activities and programs the Church offered.
After 3 or 4 weeks, I approached
the Pastor's, asking for counseling. Initially, I asked the Pastor's wife, and she politely refused...saying
her husband was better equipped to handle my type of background and hurts. Coming from a past full of abuse, poor choices,
and heartache, I found that I was pretty nervous to counsel with this man. BUT...he was 37 years old than me, and had
been a Pastor for longer than I had been alive. He appeared to be happily married, was a father, and grandfather.
I figured he must be safe, so I agreed. We counseled on a consistent basis, for a time that stretched from months to years. Toward the end, of course,
our time together did not resemble counseling at all, and I was being harmed deeper than all my previous hurts, combined.
It's only now, all these months after the fact, that I can see everything clearly. During those 4 years, I was so
perfectly groomed and manipulated, that myself, nor my family members could see the devastation that was occurring. For three years this man worked at becoming part of our
family. We talked many times each day...via phone and email. He vacationed a lot throughout the year, and
even while on vacation, he would call me several times a day. We shared much with his family. They were around
for birthday parties, family dinners, hospital visits, and many times - just because. He had an amazing relationship
with my husband. Our children loved him deeply, and looked up to him like a grandfather. He prayed with our two boys
to ask Jesus into their hearts. He baptized our oldest son. He was deeply and intimately enmeshed in our family,
for years. Whatever was going on in our world, you didn't have to look far to see him there being a part
of it. I looked up to my Pastor, as a daughter would a father, and early on he made reference to me being like a daughter
to him. He called me his "Daughter #2." I felt special to him, and he filled an empty place in my life...that
of a Dad. My husband trusted him 110%, never doubting that he would ever treat me inappropriately. He was given
complete access to our family, simply because of the trust that was placed on him, due to his position in the Church. The final year, in that stretch of four, was when the
abuse began. A few times, he gave me a lingering hug, followed by a kiss on my forehead. It startled me, and he
asked if I was okay. He told me he "just loved me so much." I would have enjoyed that affection from
my own father, and wrote it off (at first), as a father/daughter need he was meeting in my life - and in fact, I felt a bit guilty
that his embrace made me nervous. That thought only lasted a short time. Not that long after that, he confessed
to me, that he had fallen deeply in love with me. He said that he had been in love for about seven months, and had kept
it to himself, not knowing if I would allow him access to me anymore if he told me. Yet, without really asking me much
more than, "Can you love me in return?", he continued the conversation by sliding over to me, looking me square
in the eye, and saying, "This has to be a secret. If you tell anyone, I'm ruined. My career
is on the line. My marriage is on the line. My standing in the community is on the line. Tell nobody was
happens between us when this door is shut! Promise me, right here, right now." The look in his eyes showed
he was deadly serious. I didn't know what to do, or what to say. I was confused. I didn't know what
he really meant, as he hadn't done anything inappropriate up till then. So, naively, I agreed, not understanding
what I was agreeing to. Had I known, I would have run right out the door. Over the following year, I was this man's toy, his puppet, the
object of his lust. Whenever I was near him, he would not keep his hands off me. If I said no, or tried to push
him away, it did no good. It was as if what I wanted, didn't matter to him at all. To share the details of
what took place, would take hours and hours. Condensed - he held nothing back. He pursued me, daily. He
pursued me, physically, emotionally, and sexually - in every way possible. He daydreamed and fantasized - he shared
and made his thoughts, reality. Every day that passed, his grip on me tightened, to the point that I never felt I could
get away. I felt like I was dying. I had nowhere to turn, nobody I could share with. He had done a great
job of isolating me from everyone, and making sure that he had complete control over nearly every area of my life. I
was stuck! The later portion of
that last year was the worst. He became jealous and possessive, and willingly admitted it. He would watch me,
and if he saw me talking with other men at Church I would never hear the end of it. I was made to feel like I was betraying
him by sharing friendships with other men, and in the end, he told me "no man wants to be your friend because you're
a nice girl. All they want is to get into your panties - look at me! I'm your Pastor, and when I wanted
you, I got you!" It seemed that we fought all the time. I didn't want to go on. I kept telling
him I needed out. I couldn't do it anymore. The more I fought to get away, the tighter he held on. He
said he would never let go, that he "couldn't live without me." The physical/sexual aggression was about as much as I could handle, and the final straw for me came
on a rainy day in late January. We had had another fight, and he said he felt bad. He wanted to meet and talk
about it. He said he was going to grab some coffee, and would pick me up. We pulled into the parking lot of a
local store. As soon as the truck was turned off, he was all over me. I kept pushing him away - embarrassed by
his aggression in a public place. He was pawing and pushing, and then he stopped. I was crying. I looked
out my window, trying to pull myself together. And, when I turned to look at him, he had unzipped his pants, and taken
himself out. He told me to perform oral sex. I said no, and started crying harder. He grabbed me and pushed
my head down on him. Somehow, I managed to push myself away, and screamed at him to take me home. I think I startled
him. He just shook his head at me, and said "I thought you loved me. If you loved me, you would want to please
me." I was crushed, embarrassed, and done. A few weeks later I told my husband everything. Initially, because of all the words the Pastor had spoken
into my life, I was convinced that this was all my fault. I took 100% responsibility/blame. I had no idea that
this was considered abuse. My husband was the one who told me I had been manipulated and abused, and while I might not
understand that at first, one day I would. I had never heard of Pastoral (or Clergy) Sexual Abuse. Rarely, one
hears of a child being abused by a Catholic Priest - but a grown woman! I thought I was totally alone. I had myself
convinced that I was the only one, and that if I told, nobody would believe me. I fell apart. I couldn't eat,
or if I did, I got sick. I couldn't sleep, and if I managed to fall asleep, I had horrible nightmares. During
the day, I was having severe flashbacks and panic attacks, that would just take me out. I was pretty much non-functional.
It was time for some help. I
got hooked up with an amazing counselor. I read every book I could on Pastoral Sexual Abuse. I found other survivors,
so I knew I wasn't alone. It was hard work. In time, I knew, without a doubt that what had happened was not
my fault. I had been targeted, groomed, manipulated, and abused by a man that used his position in the Church to his
advantage. As the layers of this unfolded, I learned that I was not the only one he had done this to. In fact,
one of the women, he confessed to me himself. In talking to others, there is evidence that this had been going on for
years and years...possibly at many of the other Church's he worked at. His wife even knew, and never said a word
when they were hired on at this Church. Painful. Betrayed. Devasted. But, hopeful. Today, 18 months later, I am free. I stand
on the truth. What happened to me, hurt deeply. But, I am no longer a victim. I am a survivor!! He
has no hold over me. The control he once had, is gone. The secret, he once forced me to keep, I keep no longer.
So, if you're reading this, and you're stuck and scared - know that there is hope. There are others out there,
who understand everything you're facing. You are not alone! Don't give up! Reach out! Learn
the truth of your situation, and then stand on that truth. The truth WILL set you free!! I am totally willing to come along side you, and be your support as
you go through your journey. As I traveled the path of my own healing, having someone I could turn to - who had
been there, who understood completely, and who could support me unconditionally - was HUGE! I've been there, and
will help in any way I can. I know it's scary, but you don't have to deal with it alone. There
is hope. There is a positive ending...you just have to reach for it. Hang in there!! Kate Washington State
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