Growing up a girl in the church I was never told that masturbation was wrong; I guess they thought only boys did it. So I started masturbating very young to help me fall asleep. Normal, natural, I didn’t think anything of it. When I was 16 I went for a temple recommend interview with a new bishop. He asked me about masturbation and I felt super uncomfortable. I didn’t know why he needed to know this but I answered honestly. He began questioning me on what I did and how I did it and what I thought about and if I watched porn. I left his office crying. His verbal assault left me feeling confused and humiliated and embarrassed about my body and my sexuality. No one should ever feel trapped like that. No one should be pressured into telling someone such intimate things. The things he said to me that day followed me for years, making me feel ashamed and guilty for being attracted to people, for looking at myself in the mirror when getting dressed or for looking down at my body when I showered. I wanted to claw my skin off. So that’s what I started doing. If my body was so sinful and disgusting I didn’t want it. I started with scratching at my skin but it wasn’t long before I found an old pocket knife. I destroyed my skin to remind myself that I had control, that my body was ugly and sinful, to distract myself from the pain I felt inside with pain on the outside. I still have scars. I want children to know that their bodies belong to themselves and no one else. That they are beautiful and worth taking care of. I want children to be encouraged to cultivate their sexuality in healthy ways. To know that their consent is mandatory. I want them to know that they are entitled to privacy and respect. I don’t want them to be ashamed or or disgusted by any part of themselves.