I prayed for two things ever since I was a little kid. I prayed that I would never have to suffer the pain of losing a child. I watched my parents change before my very eyes when my young sister Carmella died, and I prayed to God that would never happen to me. And, I prayed for a Christian husband. I wanted to be joined in marriage to a man who honored God above all else. I witnessed physical and mental abuse in my home between my parents and I wanted a home centered around loving and honoring God above all else. Continue reading
There is a question that will forever plague me. Where was my help when I needed it? Did I hide my abuse that good? Did I fake it so well that nobody saw even a hint of what was happening? Did my husband have everyone so fooled that they didn’t believe he was capable of any wrong in our marriage? Continue reading
In the previous post I talked about why it was so difficult for me to wrap my mind around the fact that I was married to a man who abused children for the entire forty years we were married. The shock. The shame. The craziness of it all was at times almost too much for me to absorb. There were moments when I thought I had lost my mind. While I never went into denial, I did go into a state of deep, traumatizing shock. Continue reading
It’s been a while since I’ve written, but I certainly have not forgotten you. In all honesty, I’ve been taking care of myself following the sudden loss of my son. There are days when my heart feels so heavy that I don’t want to move. But, there are also those days that are blessed with new hope and smiles, and I am most thankful for those days.
I thought it would be appropriate to get back to my story of living with a practicing pedophile so that we can continue to understand a bit more of the mind of a predator, as well to understand much more about what happens to those whose lives are touched by the actions of a predator. Continue reading
I’ve grown to really dislike the words “married to a pedophile” yet the hard, cold truth is that I was married to a man who molested children. I had no clue. I thought he was genuinely kind. I thought he was a follower of God. I thought that he loved children, but my way of loving children and his way of loving children were worlds apart. Continue reading