When I was a member of the church, I was 28 years old, single and was a recent convert. For the members, I was old. So, they were always offering me members to marry. I was preparing myself to serve a mission and I was not interested in marry anyone, just because it was convenient. The system of dating inside the church is really creepy. So, there was a returned missionary, who served in my stake and he used to live in a small house, very close to the house of members I used to visit a lot, because their daughters were my friends. Everybody was saying the same: you should date him, he is a good person. Give up of your ideas to go to the mission. Marry him. And I was always saying. No. I don’t want date him. I don’t like him. I said the word “no” a thousand times.
One day, cleaning a heavy pan in the kitchen of my friend’s house, everybody was outside, I couldn’t move my arms and that returned missionary came and gave me an inappropriate hug, touching his penis in my back. It was very quick, but it was like ten hours. I was frozen and immediately started to cry. The father of my friends told me I should talk to the bishop. And when everybody confronted him, he said I was crazy.
I’ve talked with the bishop about it. Because it’s the culture. Never call the police. Call the bishop. And he said: It was your fault because that guy was trying to date me and I was not interested. I should marry him. I’ve cried, cried, cried going home, because it was not my fault. And I need to say, When I was not a member of the church, never happened to me a similar situation. Never. They love to say the “world” is horrible, but it was not like they say to keep the members in the boat. In the next weeks after to talk with the bishop, every time the bishop saw me in the corridor of the chapel, he used to make the same joke: hey, what are you waiting to date
______________? and he were always laughing. It was a nightmare. When I was in the missionary field, a member sent me a message: that man they wanted so badly to marry me was out of the church, using drugs. He used to have a double life. For that bishop, he was an amazing member who used to pay the tithing and I had the obligation to marry him. But in real life, he was a troublemaker. I’m very thankful for never listened that people. They’ve never believed me. And they protected that despicable human being that abused me.
There is always a scene in my head: me, sitting in that chapel, I was a very faithful member, and that man, sitting next to the bishop, ready to bless the bread, looking at me, in a disgusting way, invincible. It was like: see, they believe in me. You are a woman, you are nothing. I’ve used to pray to God to find a solution because I used to love being a member of the church but I was tired to live that situation, over, over and over, every Sunday. And I thought God was not listening me because everybody was pretending that bastard was right.