When I was a young child, I explored my body and quite by accident found something that felt good. I didn’t really think anything of it, and it became part of my routine. When I was about 15, I learned that what I had been doing all these years was called masturbation, and it was a sin “next to murder.” I felt incredible shame and guilt, and I was too embarrassed to talk to anyone because I had been taught my whole life in the LDS Church that this was only a “boy problem.” I concluded that because I’m a girl, the sin must be much, much worse. These thoughts and feelings significantly contributed to the eating disorder I battled at the time. Out of guilt, I finally made an appointment to confess to my Bishop (who awkwardly enough was my neighbor and friend’s dad) when I was 17. When I got into his office, I was too scared to talk to an older man about these very personal aspects of my life, so I just sat there and cried while he asked yes or no questions to try to understand why I had come in to see him. I could tell he felt just as awkward about the situation as I did, and once I got over the initial embarrassment, I felt guilty for putting him in that situation too. This happened repeatedly over the next five years with another 5 or so bishops. Some were awkward like my first bishop, others were stern, one sent me to therapy, and one even wanted to meet with me twice a week so I could discuss with him all the times I “slipped up” since we last met. He asked detailed questions like “were you on your bed? Or in the shower? What were you thinking about?” Totally inappropriate, and completely traumatizing.