My stake president wanted to meet with me in advance of going to the temple for baptisms for the dead. I’d known him my entire life and lived around the corner from me. It began with the usual questions.
These interviews always made me nervous. I was a very good kid, but I felt like you do at the TSA search at the airport, some how they’d find a bomb on me I had no idea existed.
Then he asked me if I masturbated. I hadn’t heard the word before, didn’t know what it meant.
I said, I don’t think so.
He asked me if I knew what it meant.
I said no, then he began to describe it in detail.
I began to squirm and feel sick. My face flushed. I felt dirtied somehow just by what he was saying.
I said no again.
He said, are you sure? And continued describing it.
I don’t really remember what happened after that. My brain has graciously blocked it out for me.
But I do know it was wrong. The way he looked at me, I know he enjoyed it.
I know what he did to me was wrong and sick.
He hurt me and made me feel worthless.