#403 Name Hidden. CS: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8
There was a time a little girl was happy, at least she tried to pretend she was, because she did not know what was going on.
There was a time a little girl was happy, at least she tried to pretend she was, because she did not know what was going on.
I was sexually abused by an uncle when I was three. He made me touch his penis. We were in the same ward growing up and he was later called as a bishop when I was a teenager. I remember being so sad and confused that someone like him could be called. Why would priesthood…
I was sexually abused as a primary sunbeam (age 4-5) by my primary teachers during sunday school lessons (a husband and wife). There was at least one other girl with me that I can recall. These memories stuck with her, but I repressed them until just recently. I can now look back at how the…
As I have started to read the stories others have shared, I decided I should share mine. I grew up in a divorced household, primarily living with my mother. I would have the standard every other weekend with my father growing up. The last time I saw my father I was 10-years-old. Most of my…
I want to spend a little time sharing my story. I do not want to give too many details but give readers a pretty good idea of what happened to me. I grew up in Arvada Colorado. In about 1987, there was an older man that moved in the ward, probably better not to share…
When I was in my late teens, I was called into the Bishop’s office, out of the blue, and interrogated for over one and half hours, regarding sexual acts that I knew nothing about. With each question the Bishop asked, I answered NO, as I was unaware of what he was talking about. I was…
My father was in church leadership as were all the males in my family dating back to Joseph Smith himself and are direct descendants of him. My maternal grandfather was a stake president, the first in the stake where I now live. He had a large family and every one of his children as well…
It was summer and we had a large garden in Nothern California we shared with neighbors and ward members. My dad was a postman and money was always tight for our big family. I was not yet old enough to date – 16 years old. But I my lessons in young women’s taught me that…
I honestly can’t say that I know exactly where it all began. The trouble is that the fond memories intertwine with the inappropriate and drawing that line to decipher between the two was very difficult as a child, especially when I was too young to understand. The abuse and grooming was such an integral part…
I remember a dimly lit room where I was interviewed quickly for baptism at 8 years old. My parents were ‘inactive’ and the first I heard of what I was agreeing to was in that interview. I was told I was promising to never sin again. I had a fight with my sister that night…