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: A Letter from Prison

Thanks so much for the overwhelming interest and response to this blog.  It makes me so happy to see so many people getting involved in this serious issue of protecting our children from predators and eventual molestation of innocent children.  If you are new to this blog, I would suggest that you begin reading here.  Please remember that this is my story.  I do not claim to be an expert on all the different aspects of a pedophile and the behavior of a pedophile.  What I do know is this:  I know how my life was affected and changed living for almost forty years with a practicing pedophile. And, I want to share that with you so that you can learn from me.  I want you to know what red flags to look for so that you don’t fall into the same trap that I did!

Last week, I had the privilege of being a guest blogger, and I thank Loony (Erica) for giving me an opportunity to voice my opinion on her blog, “Thoughts of a Lunatic”  on the very complex topic of whether or not a pedophile can be rehabilitated.  This post is going to go in a different direction just for today because I feel it’s so important for you to understand the way a pedophile thinks long-term.  At least the way the pedophile in my life is thinking.

A couple of weeks ago, I received my third letter from John since he has been in prison.  I have not spoken to him since he was under investigation.  I have chosen to remain silent with him for a number of reasons, and one of the reasons will become apparent to you when I share just a few lines from a letter from him to me.

Letter from JohnJohn’s letter was two pages, hand written front and back.  The first line that grabbed my heart and began to shred it was this:  “Dear Clara, I’m sorry I have ruined your life.”  That’s as far as I read until the tears came pouring from my eyes — actually, the tears came pouring from my heart.  Those words — “ruined your life” — felt like I was being stabbed with a knife over and over and over again.  Cold, hard stabs.  My first response was to sob, then curl up in a ball and cry for the next several hours.  It’s still so hard for me to grasp this whole thing.  I gave my heart, my very soul to a man that I loved and little by little my heart was kicked, beaten, and bruised until the final chapter when this letter arrived from prison and simply said, “I’m sorry I ruined your life.”

As you are reading these words, please think back to the post about rehabilitating a pedophile.  I don’t think it’s possible, and when I read further on down through the letter I’m convinced that the pedophile I was married to can never be rehabilitated.

As his words continued, he said, “I’m sorry that you had to see my dark side.  This has hurt you, I’m sure, but you’ve always been strong, and I have a favor to ask of you.”  Ah, I knew it!  I knew he could never leave it simply being sorry and asking forgiveness.  Here we go to the real John.  He’s going to ask (which really means “tell”) me what I’m supposed to do!

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My tears continued to fall like pouring rain.  How?  How could this man be asking me to do something for him when he had caused so much destruction in my life, the lives of each of his children, his grandchildren, and so many others who knew him?  If this has been me, I honestly believe I would have taken my life.  I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.  But, the mind of a pedophile doesn’t work that way.  John was thinking about John.

What did he want?  He wanted me to talk to the kids and ask them why they weren’t all writing him.  Why can’t they forgive him and have a normal relationship with him?  I almost came out of my skin at that point!  Are you kidding me?  You’ve wrecked so many people in so many different ways and you want me to fix it? 

NotePedophiles do not take responsibility for their actions.  They find an escape and someone else to blame. 

John said, and I quote, “I have been forgiven by Abba Father.  The minute I asked Abba, I was forgiven.  Now, I want you to get the kids to forgive me so that we can be a family again.”  Really?  Really, John?  You want ME to fix this for you?  It’s not going to happen! 

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Reading his letter made me feel like I had been swallowed up by some giant lie and I was trapped and suffocating and needed to get out — needed to run away — break loose, so I could get some air.  I didn’t finish that letter that night.  Instead, I sobbed deep, hard sobs into my pillow for hours and hours.

Those words, “ruined your life” and “you’re strong……you need to get the kids to forgive me” kept playing over in my head again and again and again until finally I bolted upright around 4:00 a.m., and it was like a light bulb went on!  He was at it again!  He was using me from prison!  Or, let’s rephrase that — he was trying to use me from prison.  But it wasn’t going to work.  Not this time!  Never, ever again will I give that man permission to manipulate me, to use me, and to trick me into doing anything for him.  NEVER!  This is his responsibility to win back his kids’ respect, love, and forgiveness.  Not mine!  I will not be the enabler — the fixer — any more again! 

It took me about two weeks to open up that letter again and finish reading it.  What I read stirred feelings that I don’t think I’ve ever had before.  It was a mixture of horror, anger to the point of rage, heart pain that felt like my chest was going to explode, and a sadness that felt like I had fallen into a deep, bottomless pit.

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There it was.  In writing.  Right before my eyes.  “I’ve been forgiven.  I know I did wrong, but I’ve never felt more freedom in all of my life.  I’m teaching Bible studies in prison — like the Apostle Paul.  I’m in the church choir.  And, I’m doing a lot of one-on-one teaching.  I’m evangelizing from inside these prison walls.  But, I miss seeing everyone.  Can you tell ________________ to send me pictures of the kids?  I really need to see them.  I’ve been made whole, and I know I won’t ‘those thoughts’ again.”

In this letter, he specifically asked for photos of little girls.  Not parents.  Not photos of their families.  But, of the little girls.

And, I knew.  At that moment, I knew that all of the crying.  All of the brokenness.  All of the wishing things were different was for naught.  John says he is forgiven.  Maybe he is.  Maybe he isn’t.  But, I can tell you one thing.  He is not changed.  Not at all.  He is trying to manipulate me (and others) into sending him pictures of little children.  He is masking his motives.  He is trying hard.  He is being persistent.  He is using religion.  He is lying.  He is the same.  He is a practicing pedophile.  Only now, thankfully, he is kept away from children.

And, I thank God that the children are safe from this child molester.  Every day, I thank God that many, many children are safe because this one man has been taken away from the children!

Sometimes it’s easy to fall into this trap of, “God has forgiven me, why can’t you?  And, by the way, send me some pictures of little kids because I’m all okay now.”  Do NOT fall for it!  Please, be on your guard.  Pay attention.  Stay alert at all times!  Pedophiles are lurking, watching, planning, wanting, desiring, and acting.  They take innocent lives and hurt them — causing deep, lasting pain.  Please, for the children, let’s continue to stay alert and on guard so that we can protect our children!

Next week, I’ll go back to my regular writing.  I’ll be talking about our first New Year’s Eve together.  Let’s just say it was a party like none other!  But, for today I felt it was important to update you on the ongoing thoughts of a pedophile — even when caught, proven guilty with tons of evidence, claiming forgiveness and a new, clean slate, yet still……wanting the children and boldly asking — demanding, manipulating — for those selfish, hurtful, evil desires to be fulfilled. 

Keep alert.  If someone doesn’t seem right around your children, call that person out.  So what if you’re wrong?  It’s better to speak up and be wrong than to keep quiet and back off and always wonder if you could have possibly stopped a predator in his tracks! 

Thanks for hanging in here with me.  I know this is hard reading, but it’s important for us to know — to really understand how a pedophile works.

 

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As always, I appreciate your comments and your thoughts.  And, I thank you for caring for the well-being of innocent children!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: Odd Behavior

If you are new to this blog, I’d suggest you begin by reading at the very beginning. This is not a story about my beliefs on child sexual molestation, but rather my personal story of how I came to be married to a pedophile for almost forty years without knowing.  My story is being shared so that others can be saved.  My story is for the children.

As time moved on, I began to notice some behavior that I thought was a bit odd.  Keep in mind that my twelve-year-old sister was living with us for the summer, so she and I had ample opportunity to talk in the evenings when John wasn’t home.  But, what she said to me often flew right past my head.  She was a kid, and I was the recently married, newly pregnant wife and mother.  What did she know?  Well, come to find out, she had some pretty good insights.  If only I had listened more closely!

Strange Feet - use thisEvery night coming home from work was a new experience.  There were often strangers in the house — people I didn’t know.   And,  these unfamiliar faces were invited for dinner by John .  I was hot, tired, sick from being pregnant and did NOT want to entertain strangers, yet here they were.  My sister would frequently tell me that she just sat back in our bedroom while John brought these people to the house.  Who were they?  “Church friends.”  That’s the only answer I got.  Because there were three or four different church services on a Sunday, I didn’t have a chance of getting to know a lot of different people.  But, here in our tiny apartment, were strange “church people” waiting to be fed and wanting to hang out with John.  To this day I don’t know who these people were — some men in their 20’s, some guys in their teens, and some younger who needed to be driven to and from their homes.  I was told that, “It’s part of my job.  I need to get to know all these people if I’m going to be working with them as their youth minister.”  I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Pay attention:  “Know your house guests!  Don’t ever be so accommodating as to back off and be quiet and just do as you’re told!  This is your home, too, and marriage is a partnership.  You have every right to know details about who is sitting at your table, who is occupying your home when you’re not there, and who is spending more time with your husband than you!”  Manipulation in this tiny apartment was well underway!

pool - use thisI can’t tell you how many pool parties for the teens John planned that summer and as God sits above I will tell you this — not once — NEVER ONCE — was I invited to go, nor was my sister invited to go!  Why?  Again, I was told, “This is part of my job.  I have to spend lots of time with these young people and get to know their parents.  The elders are really watching me, and they want me to mingle with the kids every spare minute I have.”

Can you imagine how this was?  All day John was back and forth between the church building and our apartment with different people of all ages.  Pool parties in the evenings, along with basketball, bible studies, youth activity meetings, and on and on it went!  I honestly felt like my husband was avoiding me on purpose!  I cried often, and in a tiny apartment, there’s no hiding anything.  My sister would ask me the next day why I was crying.  “I don’t know.  I just thought it would be different.  We’re married but we never get to spend any time together.”

My sister might have been young, but she was observant.  “John’s like a different person when he’s around those church kids.  He teases and laughs and jokes with them.  He’s so funny.  Then, when he’s with you, he never talks. ”  Those words hit me like a ton of bricks.  She was right, you know.

And, something else was beginning to happen.  The first couple of times I didn’t say anything.  I just looked away.  But, I was sure.  Well, maybe not.  Well, yes, I was sure…….

Puppy - use thisWhile I was laying in bed, I could often see John from the bedroom.  I would be day dreaming about the baby — our baby — wishing so much that he would come lay by my side and dream with me. But he never really wanted to go to bed the same time as I did even though he got up religiously at 4:00 a.m. every day which is far earlier than I got up for work.  My sister slept on a little fold away cot in the room off to the bedroom that was used as the dining room or “whatever” room.  We had a teeny kitchen, so there was an old card table and cot set up in this room which was used as John’s study room and for Ruth’s room while she lived with us. Not an ideal set-up, to say the least!

I thought I saw him quickly tug at her shorts when she walked by to go to the kitchen or bathroom.  Pretending I was asleep, I would watch night after night and sure enough — yes, it was true — he was doing that! Or was he?  Was I just seeing things that weren’t really happening?  Was I imagining everything? 

One Saturday while she and I were walking to the deli a few blocks away I got the nerve to ask her.  “He’s so weird, Clara.  He’s always pulling at my shirt or my shorts.  I try to run past him, but he’s always doing it.”  And, then she burst into tears.

I decided I’d confront him — the first time I really acted like I had a back bone.  That night I was not a happy camper, and I said we needed to talk.  It seems so “not real” as I’m writing these words.   His response?  “Your sister needs to learn how to dress.  She wears shorts that are way too short for her, and she wears those tops that have her belly hanging out.  Why do you think I never have her come to the youth meetings?  Adults have made comments about her.  It’s embarrassing.  She’s a problem child, and the way she dresses doesn’t help.  I’m trying to tell her to dress in a way that won’t make her look like a slut.”

A slut?  Yes, he used that word when describing her.  I’m hanging my head right now because it stings and hurts so bad to remember.  I took to heart what John had said, and believed him.  He was right.  She didn’t dress right.  But those were the only clothes she brought with her.  Maybe she was at fault.  Maybe he was just trying to tell her the length her shorts and shirt should be.  Maybe she flat out did lie to me when she said he was pulling and tugging at her. Maybe I didn’t really see what I thought I saw.  Oh, how much the mind plays tricks on you when you want to believe the one you love and trust! 

He was my husband, and I believed him.  Three weeks later I called my mother and father and said my sister had to go home.  She and I have had many, many conversations since throughout the years about his behavior towards her.  I witnessed on many other times him pulling at her breasts, talking to her about how “your boobs sure did stick out in that shirt.”  And, yes, he often made those comments to her in front of me.  Hearing that is dehumanizing.  Seeing it with your own eyes is worse.  And, being the recipient of those acts is the absolute worst.  That is child molestation!!!

If you were to talk to a pedophile right now, you would be told that the little children make advances to them.  The children aren’t dressed properly.  (We’re talking about children as young as one year old.)  They come onto the pedophile making it impossible for the pedophile to resist.  Pedophiles do NOT see a child as an innocent little one.  They look at them with lust.  They look at them with eyes that are vile.  They look at them with distorted images and messed up minds.  They look at them with one thing in mind — “that child will be mine!”

Let me insert something very important here.  Pedophiles like younger children and John was arrested for molesting young children, the oldest being 8.  He stated in court that he has always had a fascination with the young female body of small girls.  So, why did he also touch, grope, feel, and say crude things to teenage girls? (In the coming weeks, I’ll share stories of how he often pulled down his pants and bared his bottom to friends of my daughters!  It makes me sick to say this!)  I have no answer for that except he was very involved with adult pornography as well as child pornography as came out during his arrest and conviction.  I do believe he also had a fascination with the female body as it was developing in teenage girls, and I believe with everything in me that he committed many more acts of molestation that the ones for which there was evidence.

Why didn’t I do anything, say anything, or put a stop to this behavior when I actually became aware of it with my sister?  Why?  Because I somehow equated church work with goodness.  If John was doing so much work with the elders and church people, then he must be close to being  a saint, and it was my duty as his wife to support him, honor him, and to believe him!  [Ask me if I believe that now, and I’ll tell you something quite different!]  I wanted to badly to believe I had married a good, honest Christian man that he could have done almost anything and I would have stood by him one hundred percent, and he knew it! 

Why didn’t my sister do anything?  She did!  She told me, and I basically called her a liar and then chose to see through tainted eyes.  Listen carefully — when someone is abused, manipulated, lied to, and made to feel like a second class person, they will do anything to receive “crumbs of love.”  And, that is where both my sister and I were in life — we were happy with crumbs.  And, John knew it!  Oh, how well he knew it!  He had the perfect set-up!

I’ll stop here  for now– there was more “odd behavior — odd bathroom behavior” that we can use as a lead-in to next week’s continuation of my story. It was odd behavior, but very telling behavior.  I just didn’t know how to identify it, and that’s why I’m educating you.

I’d like to emphasize over and over again how smart pedophiles are.  Every move they make is very calculated.  Very well thought out.  Very well planned.  The grooming process — getting people (both children and adults)  to love and trust you — is very detailed.  I’ve read in numerous publications where pedophiles were interviewed that they would often write out detailed plans for months on end about how they would win the love and support of the child they chose to molest. It could take years of detailed planning and winning over everyone’s trust.   Then, the big bang — the big moment arrived — when the molesting could be done right in the house in another room with the parents there.  There is no greater thrill for the molester!!!

John is not unique in his planning, prepping, and grooming.  He’s one of millions who have molested children, and this is how they began most of the time.  You will find that most child molesters know the children they molest.  And, unfortunately, adults have been tricked into believing the molester over the child.  Just look what happened with me and my sister.  I even saw with my own eyes and heard with my own ears, and I still chose not to believe my sister.  I believed John — the preacher, the youth pastor, the man of faith.

Warning:  If you see an adult who chooses spending time with another person’s  children over his own OR if he spends more time showing acts of kindness outside of his own home than in his own home, then you need to open up your eyes real wide!  At the very least, this is wrong behavior.  At the very worst, there is an ulterior motive going on — quite possibly with the goal of molesting a child for the thrill of getting away with it right under the parents’ noses!

In the next session together, we’ll talk about how John was a beloved youth pastor.  We’ll talk about one very strange behavior that was part of John from the very beginning of our marriage clear up until the last day we were together.  This one thing makes me cringe now — I find it hard to think about without wanting to vomit.

Red flags were everywhere, but if you don’t know what to look for, you won’t see it!  Thanks for sticking with me through the hard stuff.  It will get us to a place where we’ll be smarter, wiser, more alert.  It will get us to a place where we can pick up on things children tell us and we will know that something is wrong.  It will get us educated, and education is empowerment!

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Let’s get educated!  Let’s learn how to stop these molesters in their tracks!  Let’s learn how to back them in a corner and make it so difficult for them that they cannot get to our precious ones — our children — any more!

Love,

Clara