Married to a Pedophile: Our First New Year’s Eve

A very warm welcome to those of you who are here.  I appreciate the continued interest and response coming from so many people who are interested in keeping our children safe from child molesters.  While I do not ever claim to be an expert on this topic, I do have years of experience with knowing how a pedophile plans and works so hard to groom, manipulate, and eventually molest children.  Unknown to me until two years ago, I was married to a practicing pedophile.  There were definitely “red flags” all throughout our marriage, but I didn’t have a clue what these indicators meant.  The sole purpose of this blog is to educate you so that you can be aware of things to look out for that might be red flags that you’re seeing, too, so that we can keep our children safe.  Education is the most powerful first step we can take against child predators!

If you are new to this blog, I suggest you begin by reading from the very beginning of my story.

Last week we took a bit of a break from the sequence of this story to interject some important information about a letter I recently received from John while he currently is serving time in prison.  Most of you “got it” — you understood that even as a pedophile sits in prison aware that he is there because he has committed the most vile acts against a child, his mind is still on one thing:  little children.  In fact, as I shared with you, John was bold in his request for photos of little children, promising “not to have those naughty thoughts” because he has been forgiven and is now “free.”  Hopefully and prayerfully, nobody will fall into this trap of manipulation that he continues to use.  Please, do NOT send this man photos of any children to be exploited, shared, and used for self-stimulation and gratification!

Now, to continue on with our story, let’s pick up where we left off.  Christmas was a disaster — lots of heartache and tears.  But, I really believed that redemption would come with New Year’s Eve.

By this time, I was just days away from our first baby being born.  In fact, our due date was January 23.  As is true for almost every woman alive, I was looking forward to spending a wonderful New Year’s Eve with my husband.  This was our very first time to bring in the New Year as a married couple so I planned a special Pennsylvania “good luck” meal — mashed potatoes, pork roast, and sauer kraut. I wanted to make this a super, extra special night for John to remember!  Since we were living below poverty level at the time, I knew there wouldn’t be anything real festive, but….I thought it would be so much fun after our meal together to drive around Oklahoma City and look at the last of the Christmas lights and tinsel and simply enjoy spending some time together talking about the coming year and the addition of our baby.  You have no idea how happy just the thought of spending this time together meant to me!

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Two nights before New Year’s eve John hit me with the news.  “Dear, I have to tell you something and you’re probably not going to be happy.”  *Note:  I hated to be called “Dear” — I don’t know why, but I didn’t like it.  Maybe it’s because I knew it almost always was followed by some sort of bad news.

“There’s going to be a big New Year’s Eve party for the teens at church.  I’ve been working on the plans for this party for several weeks now, and I think it’s best if you don’t go.  It’s going to be all night long, and your back will be killing you.  You won’t feel good and I won’t have time to run you home and then go back to the party.”

Honestly, I can still remember when John had “the talk” with me un-inviting me to spend New Year’s Eve with him.  I know what dress I had on, and I can tell you where I was standing in the tiny kitchen when he threw that dart ever so swiftly at me.

“What do you mean?  Why can’t I be with you?  I want to spend New Year’s Eve with YOU!!!  This is our first one together, and I don’t want to sit here in this apartment by myself.  Please can’t I go?”

I feel humiliated telling this story.  I really do.  Somehow it makes me feel so unattractive and repulsive.  I’m actually sweating and I can feel my heart racing as I’m writing this.  It’s a horrible feeling to know this kind of rejection.

John didn’t flinch.  “I told you that you can’t go.  I have too many games planned and it’s my job to keep things going at this youth activity.  It’s my job as youth minister.  You know that.  I can’t be babysitting you and taking care of the party, too.”

I was quickly learning not to fight the inevitable.  John was a quiet man — very rarely in all of our forty years together did I ever hear him raise his voice.  But, he was immovable in what he said.  Once he said he was doing something, there was no changing his mind.  I learned that very quickly in this first year of marriage.

There would be no need to make the pork roast and sauer kraut.  John wouldn’t be home.  He was eating with the church kids.  There would be no driving around the city to see the lights.  There would be no wearing the dime-store party hat on New Year’s Eve.  Instead, I would be spending this first New Year’s Eve alone.

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It’s embarrassing to say this, but I went to bed crying that night.  Instead of fighting back, I whimpered like a dog that had been kicked in the gut and sent outside for being a bad dog.  There were no hugs from John.  No apologies.  No saying he’d make it up to me.  A saying I used over and over in my life was true, “It is what it is.”  He would be leaving me home on our first New Year’s Eve.

All day December 31, I kept hoping and praying that John would change his mind. Better yet, I kept praying that somehow he was teasing me.  I don’t know why I always thought that way — a coping mechanism for heartbreak, I guess.  I got dressed that day and put on a fake happy face hoping beyond all hope that sometime during the day he’d say, “I was only kidding.  You know that.  How in the world could I ever leave you home alone on New Year’s Eve?”

But, that moment never came.  Instead, he spent hours in the locked bathroom (his usual habit that I finally accepted) with the “party planning book” and his notebook of games they were going to play.  He got all spiffed up, put on extra cologne (he used Old Spice — funny how I can still remember the smell), and clipped his finger nails.  Isn’t it strange how much we can remember when we’ve either experienced a life-changing wonderful moment or a moment of trauma that has been imprinted forever in our subconscious?

I held back the tears….I fought so hard to hold back the tears as John drove away for the party.  I watched from the upstairs apartment window, waving good-bye, and then running to the bedroom where I buried my face in a pillow and sobbed through the entire night!

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I remember sobbing so hard that I thought I’d go into labor.  I remember thinking, “I didn’t even get a phone number of where he’ll be if I need him.”  I remember not even having the strength or desire to turn on the TV to watch New Year’s Eve celebrations across the country.  I wanted one thing — to be with my husband.  That’s all.  I just wanted to be near him.  I would have been happy to just sit in the same room where he was, and he knew it.  Instead, he pushed me away and made me feel ugly, disgusting, and worthless.

I kept getting up to use the bathroom — my bladder was not in the best shape due to being so pregnant.  At one point Vashti (one of the sisters that lived beneath us) called up the steps, “Are you okay, Mrs. Hinton?”  I know that she heard me crying (okay, sobbing — loudly!), and the toilet kept flushing.  I walked to the steps and just said, “I’m okay.  Thanks for asking.”  I’m sure that Vashti and her sister wondered the same as I was wondering.  Why was I left home alone on New Year’s Eve?

I’ve thought long and hard over the years about that one question.  Why would any husband do this to his wife?  Why would a Christian husband to this to his wife?  Why would a newly married man do this to his wife?  Why would a decent human being (even if just friends) do this to anyone?

As I’ve studied more about the minds of pedophiles, I’ve learned that “control” and “manipulation” are their driving forces.  It’s not initially about the sex, although that comes into play later on (terrifyingly so).  But, initially, it’s about control.  A mad, almost savage need to be in total control.  And, I now better understand why John treated me the way he did.  He had total control without ever raising his voice or his hand.  He could never be labeled a “wife abuser” by anyone in the outside world because he never did anything that even came close to looking like abuse.  And, in fact, I was made to feel rather crazy.  I was confused.  I couldn’t understand what I had done to “deserve” being treated this way.  Just as a child often wonders why a parent pushed aside a child — I was that child.  I didn’t understand why I was being pushed away.  What I have come to understand now is that I was being purposefully mistreated.  I was being crushed in spirit.  I was being belittled.  I was being manipulated.  And, my abuser (John) was seeing just how far he could go before I would tell.

Much to his delight I never told.  Just as the abused children very rarely ever tell.  I was forced into such a broken, confused state of being that I would never tell.  I craved his love and blamed myself for not getting it. Can you understand a bit more why little children who have been molested never tell?  Can you imagine how confused their young minds are?

What did John do that New Year’s Eve?  I don’t know.  I know he put on quite a show for the teens at church.  He was the center of attention, so I heard in church on Sunday.  He was a comic. I heard the teens saying he was the funniest guy they ever met! He planned all kinds of fun games.  He ate great food. He was happy to tell me of all of the good food he ate!  And, he planned a wonderful midnight devotional where several kids from the youth group gave their lives to Christ.  From what others could see, John was one amazing young man!

However, while John was being a “Christian” and converting others, I was at home alone begging and pleading God to somehow teach me how to become a better wife so that my husband would love me.

REMEMBER THISChild molesters know what they are doing!  They hurt on purpose.  They do not care.  They lie.  They cheat.  They will steal your heart and tramp on it.  They will take the innocence away from a small child and feel jubilant over their success!  And, they groom and manipulate adults prior to grooming and manipulating the children. Why?  So that they are never suspected of such heinous wrong doing!

I will close this by saying that John came home about 2:30 a.m. New Year’s Day.  I was wide awake waiting for him.  I pretended to be so happy that “his party” was such a success. He had to know how much I was broken because there was no hiding my swollen eyes that had been crying all night.  And, any person with an ounce of common sense or a shred or love would never have left his wife home alone on New Year’s Eve.  He was happy.  Another notch of victory  for John! 

Next week we will talk about the arrival of our first child.  Until then, please read the words I’ve written carefully.  Read them again and again until it sinks in as to how demeaning a pedophile is.  Read these words and understand how calculated every action of a child molester is.  Nothing is done randomly.  Every action is well thought out — planned ahead with much thought.  Do you see yourself in such a situation?  If so — RUN as fast as you can and if you have children take them with you!!!

If you are the victim of any abuse, learn the strategies of these abusers and don’t allow yourself to be beaten down ever again!  Pedophiles are on a power trip and they use their power to beat others down emotionally.  They use children for their sexual and emotional gratification.  And, by so doing, they cause a lifetime of terror and pain for these children!

For the children — let’s get smarter and stop this abuse now!

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Thank you for reading.  And, thank you so very much for caring.  Together we can get educated about pedophiles and the way their minds work so that we can stop them in their tracks well before they reach our children.  Our children deserve a carefree, innocent childhood!  Every child deserves to be treated respectually and with love!  Help me in this mission to educate!  Spread the word.  Be on the lookout.  Speak out when you suspect any kind of abuse.  And, please hold your children just a bit closer to you every day and tell them how much you love them.  They are precious and they depend on us to take care of them.  Let’s get educated and empowered — for the children! 

Love,

Clara

PS  John’s case was said to be one of the most “complicated cases” of child molestation in a long time.  To this day, I do not know if he also abused older children.  He said his “favored age” was young, prepubescent girls, but I know for a fact that he also molested older girls.  I’ll never know for sure how wide the net of his molestation went, but that’s not the purpose of this blog.  The purpose of this is to educate you of the cunning ways of pedophiles and how they also groom adults into thinking they are wonderful people.  John, to this day, is a wonderful person to many.  Hardly a week goes by that I don’t get a call or an email saying, “I know John did this stuff, BUT — he was so good to me and my family.  He will always be a pillar of strength to me.”  That’s manipulation at its best! 

As always, I welcome your comments!

 

 

 

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Married to a Pedophile: Weird Behavior

If you’re new to this blog, I’d like to say “welcome” and I’m glad you have found this place of education and hopefully some healing.  This is my story of what it was like being married to a practicing pedophile for almost forty years — without knowing it!  There were red flags — things that I should have picked up on — but I didn’t know anything about pedophilia.  So, out of my painful experience I hope to bring about some good by educating others so that this wave of child molestation can be stopped! 

If you’re new to this blog, I suggest you begin reading at the beginning

Let’s pick up where we left off last week.  John’s behavior was becoming more and more odd to me as the weeks passed by.  He was so very different to others than he was to me.  Put him in a mix with his beloved church people and he was the clown, the jokester, the laughing person, and the one with endless energy.  Put him home with me, and I hate to use this word, but he was a deadbeat.  It was like there was no life in him.  I had to pick and pry to get a simple sentence out of him.  “How was your day?”  “Good.”  “What did you do?”  “Nothing much.”  “Are you hungry for anything special?”  “Not really.  Anything you fix will be good.”

Honestly, it was like he had a split personality — and I often cried myself to sleep because of this.  As a newlywed, I felt like very early on my husband was no longer interested in me, and that’s a horrible feeling.

To add insult to injury, he purposefully avoided me by his schedule  that was so strange.  Very, very strange.  He got up religiously at 4:00 a.m (as I mentioned in last week’s blog), which is fine, I guess.  A lot of people like to get up real early.  But, the hurtful thing was that he said he had to get up to “study” and not only did I not have a clue what he was studying, BUT he would continue with his “studying” in the bathroom a minimum of two hours every morning, and most evenings at least two hours.  With the door locked. That’s just plain weird for a newly married couple! 

I’ve done a lot of thinking about this over the years, and this should have been a huge red flag.  This “secrecy in the bathroom” was always baffling to me.  What in heaven’s name does anyone do in a bathroom for two solid hours at a clip two times a day every day?!?!?

His answer was simple:  “I’m studying.  I like my private time.  That’s my time on the throne and that’s where I can do a lot of my thinking.”

Okay — so you’re up at 4:00 a.m. and study from 4:00 to 6:00, then you eat a bit of breakfast, then you go lock yourself in the bathroom for two more hours from 6:30 – 8:30 and study more?  NOTE If something doesn’t seem right, it probably isn’t!  Much later on I would find that John used this time many days as his “list making time” — his time to go over and over all of the details of his day — which included his masterful studying of the female mind, what makes young girls attracted to men, and how to read body language.  (I found countless books in his private library on these topics!)

Use this one!

 Pay attention!  If you live with someone being “secretive” in their daily routine, beware!  There is a reason for this!  If you are living with someone who loses interest in you, but is totally, completely fascinated with others, then you have a real problem on your hands!  Yes, I had a real problem!  I was living with the “fun John” and the “secret John” and I didn’t know what to think of this!  None of this made sense to me at the time, but later on in years to come it would become more and more of a problem in the marriage, and once the real John was known, it all made perfect sense.  John was consumed with studying others.  Learning about them.  Watching their every move.  He didn’t need to pay attention to me.  I was his.  I married him.  I was  carrying his baby, for Pete’s sake!  He knew I wasn’t going anywhere!  Besides, I wasn’t the topic of his thoughts — unknown to me at the time  little children were his focus! 

I’m going to interject something here because I know it’s a question that you have.  Many have asked me — others have hinted that they wanted to know.  Yes, pedophiles do have sex with their wives/adult women, although their fascination is with a child’s prepubescent body.  I’ll be very honest here because I think it will shed some light on what John was doing in his “private time.”  If I didn’t initiate sex, we didn’t have it.  And, many, many times, he’d turn his back to me and flat-out say “no.”  Period. End of discussion.  He also said something I’ve never forgotten because it hurt me clear to the core of my soul.

“I can’t stand looking at you when you’re pregnant.  It gives me the creeps.  I think pregnant bodies are ugly.”  Yes, he used the harsh, hurtful word “UGLY” and it made me feel lower than dirt.  My own husband didn’t want to look at me because I was “ugly” — and he maintained that stand all through our married lives.  Of course it makes perfect sense to me now!  He loved looking at little girls’ bodies.  At the time, I curled up in a ball at night and cried myself to sleep.  (Later on, I wouldn’t give him the chance to hurt me that way.  I stopped initiating sex and that part of our relationship came to a near halt.  Yes, I did have eleven children, but even the doctor commented, “You’d get pregnant if a man sneezed on you!” )

NOTE:  If your husband loses interest in sex — especially when you are wanting that part of your relationship to thrive and be enjoyed — there is something very, very wrong! 

I felt that this was something that needed to be addressed because lack of an intimate relationship became a huge barrier in years to come.  Little did I know that John was getting his fulfillment from little girls (by his own admission).  Pedophiles also stimulate themselves and I had the terrible experience of seeing John do this many years down the road.  I was shocked, I was hurt, I was confused, but I kept quiet.  I thought maybe that’s what all guys did — married or not.  I wanted to be the only one to satisfy his needs, but that wasn’t going to happy. Not in the first year of marriage.  Not ever!

Cemetery blog More strange stuff!  John was still a “volunteer” at the church waiting to take the place of Jim as the full-time youth minister in an “unpaid” position.  I was a nervous wreck because we weren’t cutting it on my salary.  So, I begged, pleaded, encouraged, and sobbed, “Please get a part-time job.  We really, really need the money.” 

One evening, he surprised me with the news, “I have a job!  You’re never going to believe this, but I found some part-time work at the cemetery.”  (Yes, it was the same one where he stole the flowers for my table setting.)

Okay, I’m not picky.  A job is a job.  And, we needed the money.  He was going to help with the landscaping, as well as help cover the caskets after a burial.    John loved this job!  In fact, he was giddy over it!  The reason?  He made best friends with a guy named, “Salt.”  Salt was an old man who lived in a shack with his little seven year-old-grandson  who used to run around the house naked.  How do I know this?  Because John would get home from work, fill up the bathtub, soak in the tub for his two hours and hee-haw on the phone with Salt and his little grandson while in the bathroom. 

I was getting sick of being treated like a piece of furniture or a lamp-post — something to sit on or lean on for convenience.  I threatened to pull the plug on the phone if he didn’t stop with that nonsense.  It never stopped!  He visited Salt on weekends, and played with the little boy.  Although he said under oath  that his preference was little girls, I do believe he at least experimented with little boys.  (His investigation brought out evidence of the same!)

Note:  It’s not  normal to toss aside your new bride for a relationship with a 70-year-old man and a little boy!    Yes, I was jealous and so hurt, but it did no good!  Salt won out over me every time!  I never met Salt, I didn’t want to meet Salt, but I do have pictures of him.  John could talk endlessly with Salt.  With me, I got nothing more than a grunt.

Caution:  If an adult relates better to little children than with adults beware!  In this case, I do believe John was getting some thrills from Salt’s grandson.   I think there was a thrill in hearing about this boy running around naked and using vulgar language to describe it.  I could hear John talking, but it was so confusing to me.  With me, he NEVER talked any kind of sex talk.  But, he sure could with  Salt!   

One more thing before we close today.  Pedophiles are known to make detailed lists about everything.  John fits this to a “T”!  Very rarely was there a day in our near forty years together that he didn’t leave me a list on the kitchen table.  “Get groceries at the Piggly Wiggly, aisle 5, near the back, towards the top, left side — you’ll find the baked beans.”  I’m not kidding one bit about this.  It would take forever to read his lists, and it made me feel like a little girl with no brains when he did that.  I think I have the know-how to find the baked beans in the store! 

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Please pay careful attention to the list making part!  This is a biggie, and I didn’t know it.  Everything John did revolved around lists!  Everything!  He planned detailed kids’ parties with lists.  He planned visits to people with lists.  He planned everything and anything with lists.  Always, always he had his pockets stuffed, his car, his bible, stuffed with very detailed lists. 

Pedophiles make lists.  They will plan details about winning over adults so that they can molest a child using lists.  They will use list making to write down every detail so that nothing is left out.  A great book enlightening me on this (since John’s conviction) was “Not With My Child.” Honestly, it was like a blaring red flag being waved at me!  All of our lives lists dominated our daily living.  Lists about stupid stuff.  Endless details.  Now it makes sense!  It takes a lot of detailed planning to win over the trust of adults so that eventually there comes the climactic thrill of molesting their child!

Individually, none of this “odd behavior” is too crazy.  It’s hurtful.  It is neglectful.  But nothing so far is more than “odd.”  Odd.  Very, very odd.  Certainly not enough to go running to others about.  But, it was enough to make for a very sad, very broken relationship which began forming early on.

I felt lost.  I felt alone. I felt confused.  I felt betrayed.  I felt ugly. And, I now feel  like our entire marriage was a big, fat lie.  I feel like my life as a wife was a joke.  I feel like I was used as a ploy — a decoy.  I’m finally getting answers after all of those years, and that part feels good.  What doesn’t feel good is knowing that while I tried everything I could to be a better wife, it didn’t matter.  A better wife isn’t what John wanted.  He wanted to fulfil his growing appetite for manipulation, pornography, and the ultimate thrill of winning a parent and child’s trust enough to molest that child — and keep that child from ever telling!!!!! 

Please stick with me through this series on my life with a pedophile.  Next week we will talk about more red flags — the red flags that went up in church.  BIG red flags!  Keep in mind, churches are known as “playgrounds for pedophiles” and such was true in John’s case.

Keep your eyes open.  Stay alert.  Watch people with odd behavior who target you or your children.   Don’t allow yourself to be swept away by someone’s overkill of kindness — especially if it’s making you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable.  If it doesn’t feel right, then it probably isn’t!

Pedophiles are cunning.  They are smart.  They study body language.  They study people.  They make lists.  They never rush with their plan to molest a child.  It’s time for us to smarten up and get educated enough to spot them BEFORE they can draw children and adults into their evil snare of manipulation. 

For the children, let’s get educated!

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Your comments are always appreciated!

Clara

PS  My sister lived with us through the end of that summer.  John continued with his church teen parties, the cemetery work, and spending countless hours at the church building (if that’s where he really was). Our relationship was never right from the very beginning.