At the age of 17, I was raped by an acquaintance of mine. I told my bishop, hoping to get some sort of help.
Instead, because of his invasive and unnecessary questions, I was made to relive that horrible day, forced to tell this man I barely knew explicit details of whether I had ever touched myself before, what was done to me, how my body reacted, and how long each different act lasted
Afterwards, rather than giving me resources for counseling, or encouraging me to go to the police or even my parents, I was told that I needed to repent for what had happened.
I was not allowed to take the sacrament for an entire year. I was given an addiction recovery book and told to go through the steps in it to help me with my “sexual problems”. I was made to meet with the bishop at least twice a month to discuss my “progress” (more invasive questions about whether I was touching myself, if so, how? And how often?)
In addition to all of that, I was made to feel such shame for any sexual feeling that occurred within me, that when I eventually married I was unable to even undress in front of my husband without intense feelings of self hatred and disgust.