If you are new to this blog then I strongly suggest you begin reading here so that you can understand the full impact of how the mind of a pedophile works.  One of the most important things to remember is that pedophiles live in a total fantasy world and their world is built on lies.  There are days when I sit and stare blankly for hours at a time shaking my head wondering how I fell for so many lies for all of those years when I was married to John.  I’d like to think that I’m fairly intelligent and I used to pride myself on being able to see through the lies and deceit of people.

No longer do I think I’m so smart.  In fact, just the opposite.  I was living with a man and was totally devoted to him while he was lying, cheating, and deceiving me every day of my life.  There are times when I cry for hours wondering if he ever truly loved me.  We had children together and I thought those children were products of our sincere love.  Now……I doubt every bit of that.  I now believe I served only one purpose.   I was selfishly and maliciously used by this man I loved with all of my heart.  I was used to do nothing more that fulfill a sexual or emotional void.  Other times I was used to complete some kind of sick fantasy in a world that consisted of lies, deceit, manipulation, and enabling him to have free and easy access to children for the sole purpose of molesting them.  And, that leaves me feeling literally sick.  To know that you were never truly loved hurts beyond anything words could ever describe. And, to later find out that by your own inability to detect these morose, despicable actions of his many, many innocent children were harmed — well, I can’t begin to tell you how heavy my hearts feels every day of my life!

In the previous blog post, I talked about John’s pedophilia escalating.  As I look back now I can see a number of ways in which he was getting more and more open with what he was doing.  Yet, at the time, I thought maybe it was just his “middle age crises” — maybe his behavior had gotten more bizarre because he was getting older and had a fear of not being as useful and needed in the family, church, and community as he was in his earlier years. As always, I made excuses for him.  And, he counted on me always being his number one supporter!

I began noticing John spending more and more time at home when he was supposed to be out working.  And, now instead of staying locked up in his office downstairs he was on his computer right out in the open.  Actually, he had set up an office right in our dining room which was totally odd to me.  He went from one extreme to the other.  He went from years and years of total privacy to now being front and center.  In order to walk to the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, or living room, you had to literally step right in front of John where he had his new office set up.

I was so angry with him for setting up an office in our dining room!  He plugged in a long orange extension cord to his computer that I had to step over every time I passed from one room to another.  Half the time I’d forget that cord was laying there and trip over it and he’d look up and give me that slow, snaky-looking sneer as if to say, “You’re so dumb.  Can’t you remember from one minute to the next that the cord is right there in front of your feet?”

John said he hated the job as a truck salesman and was looking for a new job.  He was insistent he wanted to do two things:  preach part-time and become a male babysitter — a “manny.”  Every day he sent out applications for both jobs — he was certain he’d get both of his wishes and he was determined in his job seeking!  The preaching job I could understand.  The babysitting job — I couldn’t wrap my mind around a 62 year old man wanting to babysit kids!

Something else was strange.  John became the free babysitter for people!  He’d insist on babysitting for friends so that they could “go out on a date and have a night off from the kids.”

You have no idea how much this angered me! He put on such a sweet show in front of people and he acted genuinely concerned about their marriages.  As for ours — our marriage what in a shambles.

I was no longer spending nights in the bedroom — our communication had broken down to the point of hardly ever speaking.  I worked long, hard hours at my job and I often came home and walked straight to the living room and went to bed on the couch.

What a strange dynamics in our home at this time!  John and I weren’t speaking, we still had two children at home and he barely said a word to them either.  We were living like dysfunctional zombies.  Eventually, I fell into a pit of depression.  I knew our marriage was going to end.  I was afraid.  I was lonely.  I was so mixed up and full of self-blame.  The kids didn’t know what was going on, and quite truthfully most of them (those who were living away from home) stopped talking to me.  In their minds, this marital breakdown that was finally happening was my fault.  Keep in mind John had always been their hero. Just yesterday I heard my son Jimmy give a keynote speak at a Child Abuse Seminar and he explained to the audience that he and his dad had a warm, close relationship.  So much so, that he modeled his life after his dad.  He chose ministry because of his dad.  To the kids, John had always been the model father!

Something had drastically changed, though.  John remained focused on two things — finding a job with a church and finding a babysitting job.  And, the more he talked about that, the more depressed I got until one day I realized I wasn’t even functioning any more.  It was all I could do to drag myself off of the couch to get dressed.  He, on the other hand, remained chipper and acted like nothing was wrong. In his world of fantasy, I really think he believed we still had a great marriage! 

Do you want to hear something really bizarre?  I had totally shut down and yet John would follow the same routine every day — he seemed totally oblivious to what was going on in our home.  He would walk into the living room, kiss me on the cheek and say, “Good night.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  And, then he would give me a soft pat on the head — as if he was patting a child good night.

In the morning, he was always up bright and early and he would fix a breakfast of coffee, two pieces of toast, and an egg and serve it to me in the living room on a tray.  Most days I was so depressed that I wouldn’t eat a bite (I lost almost fifty pounds during this time of depression) yet he acted as if everything was perfectly normal and fine.  He never acknowledged anything being wrong or different or messed up in our family life together!

One day I can remember thinking that I didn’t want to live any more and that thought scared me.  I had never felt feelings like that before!  It was like I was living in a fake world — a prison where nothing was real, nothing made sense any more,  and it scared me so bad that I wanted to escape.  I remember calling out to John one morning while sitting curled up in a ball on the floor sobbing and begging him to help me find a counselor — somebody who could help me get through this mess.

On this particular morning in October as I was clinging to him begging him to hold me close and to help me something happened that became a defining pivotal point in my life.

John Hinton looked down at me with cold eyes of hatred.  He never said a word.  He took my hands and peeled them away from him in total disgust.  He stood back and stared at me as I sat on the floor sobbing.  He kept his eyes fixed on me for what seemed a good half hour as I  begged him to help me.  His eyes — those eyes that never before could look me straight in the eyes — were now staring with a glazed look.

Then, I’ll never forget these words that came out of his mouth as if they had been practiced over and over a hundred different times.  “I’m leaving to go to work.  I hope you can pull yourself together.  You’re disgusting.”

And, he left.

The girls were gone for school already and as I watched him drive down the driveway that fateful day I knew for certain that he had no love for me, but only had disgust.  I’ll never forget his cold, penetrating eyes and that fixed glare.  I honestly believe he could have killed me that day.

And, that is the day I made a decision that John W. Hinton would no longer control me.  I was weak.  I was depressed.  I was empty.  But…..I believe God answered my prayers that day by helping me make a decision that should have been made years ago.

It took me three more long, pain-filled months and millions more tears and lonely days and nights of struggling and suffering to find the courage to finally make the phone call I should have made years before.

I called a counseling agency and made an appointment to begin getting some help!

My courage came by remembering those cold, penetrating, hate-filled stares along with the words, “You’re disgusting.”  Those words played over and over in my mind a million and one times.   “You’re disgusting.  You’re disgusting.  You’re disgusting.”

Definition of disgusting (adj) 

• dis·gust·ing
• [ diss gústing ]

1. repellent and sickening: tending to repel and sicken people
2. disgraceful: completely unacceptable or disgraceful

I never told a soul at first that I made an appointment to see a counselor.  I was too afraid.  That was way out of my comfort zone.  And, I had heard many, many sermons by John that all counselors are “quacks” — weirdos who played with people’s minds.

That one word — disgusting — was the word that God used to change the course of my life.  Instead of that word crushing me even more as John had planned, that word caused me to finally do something I should have done a long time ago.  That word caused me to somehow find the strength to fight back!

Imagine with me for a moment being a young child and being molested by a person — someone you’ve known.  Someone who had taken your trust and used that to work against you.  Imagine being a child begging to be loved and instead……..your body is used in horrible ways to gratify the sick appetite of a selfish, mindless person incapable of knowing how to protect the innocence of a child.  Imagine the pain.  Imagine the harm.  Imagine the brokenness of a child left feeling “disgusting.”

This is what pedophiles who molest children do!  They take the innocent, the pure, the helpless and they use them.  They crush them.  They horrify them.  They bait them into thinking they are loved and then they leave them feeling they are used and no good and “disgusting.”

Please help me put an end to this abuse!  It’s wrong!  It’s terribly wrong and for too long we’ve allowed this to go on!  We must stop this abuse from happening!  Please join together with me by being a voice for the children!  If you are living in a situation such as I was please get away!  Take your children and leave!  If you suspect any kind of odd behavior towards children, please speak out loud and speak out now!  It’s up to you and me to become voices for our children!  If your child tells you that someone is touching him in wrong ways, please believe your child!

And, if you are a victim of child sexual abuse or any kind of abuse, please remember this:  “You are beautiful!  You are beautiful!  You are beautiful — just as you are!”

Thank you so much for reading.  Thank you so much for caring.  Thank you so much for sharing!  Thank you so much for finding the courage to speak out for our children!

Love,

Clara