Married to a Pedophile: The Hand is Quicker Than the Eye!

The amount of readers to this blog is mind-boggling to me.  Never in a million years did I expect so much interest in this topic.  What I’m learning is the sad fact that there is so much abuse that has been kept silent that it’s frightening.  Because of the silence of those who have been abused, the molesters have had the freedom to do as they please with little repercussions, if any.  Why?  Because most children who have been abused keep quiet.  They’re embarrassed.  They’re afraid.  They’re humiliated.  And, they don’t think anyone will believe them. And, sadly, our laws aren’t designed to fully protect them!

But, that is changing!  Silence no more!  Victims are turning into survivors!  They are learning to speak up and speak out and they are being heard!  Every time you read one of these posts and you share it, you’ve done your part in diluting the power of the molester and you are encouraging the victim who is gaining the courage to become the survivor.

Thank you!  Thank you so much for doing your part in being a voice for the children!

If you are new to this blog, I’d strongly suggest that you begin here.

By this time in our married lives, I was “okay” with life.  I had a house filled with children, and they made me happy.  John was gone mostly every week working insurance, and we all had adjusted to that routine.  He generally came home Friday nights and stayed through Sunday afternoon.  It’s amazing how quickly a family can adapt when they have to do it!  And, yes, he remained the preacher for our local congregation.

The hard thing for me was knowing that when John came home, he had made little to no provision for time alone with me, his wife.  Somehow, time with me always seemed to get knocked to the bottom of the priority list and it was expected of me to be happy with that.  Secretly I would cry.  I was lonely and I would wait all week long for him to come home.  I wanted nothing more than to spend alone time with my husband.

I would daydream all week long of John walking through the door, giving me a great big hug, swinging me around, and saying, “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you and how much I love you!”  I would lay in bed and think about what I would say to him when he spoke those words to me.

Instead, when he came home (after being away an entire week), the very first thing he did was to lift up the lids of the pots on the stove and say, “What’s for supper?”.  After that, he’d walk to the bedroom, change into sweat pants, eat in silence, and then go downstairs to “go over paperwork.”  What a let down when he turned and walked away from me yet another time.

Always, always I wondered what was wrong with me.   He just didn’t seem interested.

There was something else that was bothering more and more.  And, that was the way John acted with others in front of me.  Sometimes I would blink my eyes two times or more just wondering if I really saw things right.  Or, was I imagining what I was seeing because I was hurt and feeling abandoned by him?

Pay attention to these red flags because they are of major importance! I never said one word to him about these things even though his actions seemed odd, strange, inappropriate, and wrong!  Why?  For the same reasons that victims of sexual abuse never speak up.  I was afraid.  I felt embarrassed.  I thought I was somehow the cause of his inappropriate actions.  And, who was going to believe me if I did say something?  Certainly not anyone from church!  He was the hero — the coolest preacher ever!

1.  The first time I saw this, I had to re-think this over and over thousands of times questioning myself if it really happened.  Just as quick as lightning, John pulled his pants down (yes, underwear and all) and bared his entire bottom to a group of girls.  Why?  He said he was just joking and teasing and said ever so quickly, “Don’t look now, but I’m gonna moon you!”

And, he did!   Yes, that’s right.  The odd thing was that the girls didn’t seem at all put off by this or surprised or upset.  Instead, he was just more fun to them than ever! This was done on many occasions and almost always in front of our own children (because he was “mooning” their friends).  It was a shock effect, but nobody reacted adversely — not one of us!  Pedophiles love using the shock effect as a test to see how far they can go without anyone telling! 

2.  John loved to pick up little girls and hold them in their crotch (between their legs), and balance them high in the air with one hand.  Mothers would ask him to stop — they were afraid he was going to drop their child.  I used to turn and look away.  I couldn’t stand it.  I just knew he’d end up hurting a child.

What’s wrong with this?  His hand positions on the child — always, always hands in crotch.  And, his total disrespect of a parent’s boundaries for their child! And, knowing what I now know about a pedophile’s behavior, this was a way of exciting himself!

3.  John loved to change diapers.  Honestly, if I never changed another diaper in all of my life I’d be happy.  Not John.  He’d always whisk up a child and say, “Phew!  I smell something bad in here.  Let’s go get you changed.”  And, away he went with the child’s diaper bag to change the child’s diaper in a back bedroom or someplace in the church that was private.  I thought it was weird that he’d want to change somebody else’s child’s diaper, but now it’s a lot more than weird.  It’s a waving red flag that something was very wrong!!!!

4.  The first time John did this, I threw the sight of this to the back of my mind because I kept thinking, “There is no way I saw him do that.  Absolutely no way!”  But, I did see it, and I kept seeing it.  John would “tweak a boob” as he called it.  Just as quick as lightning, he’d grab a girl’s breast and squeeze her (reaching for her nipple) leaving both the child and me in shock!  And, yes, he even did that in church in front of adults.  And, no.  Nobody (including me) ever said anything.

Obviously, he was again using the shock effect. And, it worked!  He got his jollies and nobody said a word.  Not a soul called him out on this!

5.  John loved to “wrestle” with little kids — tackling them, tickling them, and rolling around with them on the floor.  It was embarrassing to me to see him act so immature, and I’d ask him time and time again not to do that.  But, he continued.  Why would a man of 35 years plus do this with little kids?  He said he loved to “loosen kids up and get them to laugh.”  I believed him, even though I didn’t like what he was doing. This should have been a big red flag to me that there was something more involved than immaturity!

Rolling around on the floor drawing children up close against him was another way of getting physical pleasure AND of grooming children.  This is a tactic used by many molesters.  Little children feel pleasure when touched in private places and they don’t understand what’s going on.  Bingo!  Exactly what the pedophile wants to happen!

6.  Snapping a little girl’s training bra was another favorite.  He loved that “little teeny bopper age” as he called it when girls were “just sprouting their boobs.”  I would yell at him to stop it, but he’d only laugh.  “You’re too uptight.  These kids never get to have any fun.  Their parents are like dried up prune pits.  They don’t know how to laugh with their kids.  This is nothing but kids having fun.”  Again, I fell for it thinking maybe I was the prude — one of the ones who was a dried up prune pit.

Do you see what was going on here?  Do you see how John was getting away with things right in front of adults?  Can you see how this is called “grooming”?  He was “in training” — testing.  Testing to see just what he could do right in front of an audience without anyone thinking ill of him.  He was a master!  Every move of the hand was calculated, planned, and well thought out.  He was playing games with the adults (who was going to question this fine, trusting man?) while he was stimulating himself by touching breasts, grabbing between little girls’ legs, and baring his own adult male body in front of these pre-pubescent girls.

I’m sick as I think about it.  Totally sick.  Once again I fell for his horrid lies.  He often told me that I was no fun.  I didn’t know how to joke and tease.  He knew my father wasn’t this kind of man, so he’d often say, “You grew up in a home where your father wasn’t really a father.  You had no male role models, so that’s why you can’t see how funny this is.”

He did a great job convincing me that I was the one who was thinking wrong!  And, this is just how a pedophile works to lure your child, trick the parents, and get away with molesting children without any fear whatsoever of anyone telling!

Please, please think about these red flags I’ve just shared with you!  It’s NOT okay for a grown man to bare his privates in front of kids “just for fun.”  It’s NOT okay to grab little children between their crotch!  It’s NOT okay to ever touch a girl’s breast or squeeze her nipples!  It’s NOT okay to rub your adult body up against a small child and force them to feel your adult body being excited!  It’s NOT okay to take a small child to a back room and take off a diaper and use your hands to excite yourself.

NONE OF THIS IS OKAY!!!!!  NONE OF IT!!!!!!  Together we must be aware, we must do all we can to keep our children safe, and we must continue to be a voice for our children.

I didn’t have the information you now have.  I didn’t even know what a pedophile was and I was married to one.  Please learn from my pain.  Please listen to what I have to say.  Please pay attention, and do all you can to keep our children safe!

I hope to be posting a link within the week along with a form letter template to send to our lawmakers.  We need changes in our laws and in order to do that we need to create a voice with those who make the laws.  I’m hoping that you will help!

Grooming a Child

Love,

Clara

PS  For more information on child abuse, please visit my son’s blog — written from the heart of the son of a pedophile.

Married to a Pedophile: The Most Unique Gift — Better Than Pinterest!

Pinterest is the big craze right now, and I admit that I love visiting there, too.  Fashion, cooking, and DIY crafts, and my favorite of all — flowers!  Anything to do with flowers brightens up my day!

Ten years into our marriage, many years before anyone ever heard of Pinterest, John was a person who was “creative” with his gifts.  We didn’t have much money at all for gift-giving with our growing family, so we often did things like searched at auctions for a piece of furniture, sanded it, and stained it and that was a “together” gift.  I like that — a lot!  Those were the kinds of gifts that had meaning and purpose!

I’m going to tell you about a gift that I received from John that is the most unique gift ever, and I feel fairly safe in saying that it was a one-of-a-kind never to be duplicated!

If you are new to this blog, I would strongly suggest you begin reading here in order to get the complete meaning of John’s gifts, his planning strategies for gifts, and to understand more completely the thought processes of this man who was a preacher, teacher, father, husband, insurance salesman, outdoorsman, and child molester.  Yes, I did say child molester.  For almost forty years (while we were married) John hid a very dark secret from me and countless others.  He had begun molesting children at the age of fourteen and continued to do so until his arrest and conviction at age sixty-three.

Let me give a little bit of background to set the stage for this particular gift — a Mother’s Day gift.  I was eleven days away from the due date of delivering my sixth child on Mother’s Day.  My oldest daughter was now ten, and following her birth I now had five healthy, active little boys — stair steppers.  They were fireballs full of energy, and I thank God for that!

We had just moved from the church parsonage to our home in the country that we were renting.  We finally had a yard — a BIG yard for the kids to play in, and the house was far more than I could have ever asked for.  It was lovely, and I remain living there to this day.

On this particular Sunday morning, I got up and got the younger kids ready for church while the older ones got dressed and ready for Sunday School.  John was up at his usual time of 4:30 a.m. to study his lesson, but on this day he was dressed and showered early and was outside doing something.  He popped his head into the kitchen to ask the three oldest kids to come outside with him, and that’s when my heart began racing.  I was hoping upon all hope that he had somehow managed to get me a used rocking chair — the one we had looked at when we went to a second-hand shop.  I fell in love with that rocker immediately, and my heart was dancing as I imagined rocking my new baby, in our new home, in that rocking chair!

solid-wood-rocking-chair-furniture-design-924x1024I began putting the ham for lunch into the oven.  I had already made the potatoes and salad.  But, I didn’t make dessert this particular Sunday.  Okay, I admit it.  I was hoping that John would have bought a cake for dessert.  Being this far along in my pregnancy, I didn’t feel much like cooking!  And, it was Mother’s Day!  I would have loved a day off from cooking!

The three older kids came running inside all out of breath!  “Mom!  Dad said to sit down in the livingroom.  We have a Mother’s Day gift for you, and it’s gonna be great!  Just wait until you see it!”

Can you feel my heart racing as you’re reading this?  Honestly, I was so excited I could hardly contain myself.  I was feeling so special — so blessed.  It was Sunday — a beautiful day to begin with, plus it was Mother’s Day.  And, here I was blessed with so many beautiful children, and another one about to be born.  And, now this —– a surprise gift (that I was still praying would be that rocking chair)!

“Close your eyes, Mom!  No peeking!  Dad is finishing wrapping the gift and he wants all of us around you when you open it so he can take a picture.”

Can I just say that I was dying from the anticipation?  This was about to be the happiest day of my life!  I knew it!  I absolutely knew it!  I sat in the chair and gathered the kids around me.  I even dabbed on some lipstick for the picture about to be taken.  Every pregnant mom wants to look her best for a picture!

John called for the three oldest kids to come get the gift.  “The gift is ready for Mother!  You can come get it now!”

wrapped gift“Open your eyes, Mom!  It’s time to open your gift!”

Ahhhh….ohhh…..I sighed with so much joy.  The box was wrapped beautifully.  I knew it wasn’t the rocking chair, but who cared?  I knew this lovely surprise had been chosen just for me and that’s all that mattered.

I took my time untying the ribbons as the kids were jumping up and down with excitement yelling, “Open it faster!  C’mon, faster, Mom!”

Finally, it was time to lift the lid to the box, and I could feel the happy, thankful tears begin to stream from my emotional face.  Maybe this was the outfit the baby would wear home from the hospital.  Maybe it was a lovely blouse for me to wear home from the hospital.  No, maybe this was a delicious Mother’s Day cake with fluffy white frosting with “I love you” written across it.

I smiled softly at John as he stood nearby with the camera in his hand to capture this moment for us as a keepsake that we would have forever!

It was time to reveal the gift!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

On Sunday, May 10, 1981 part of my heart died when I lifted the lid of that box.  And, that part of my heart will forever remain dead. There is nothing or no one that could ever bring life back to the part of me that died that Mother’s Day morning.

Sitting inside of a beautifully wrapped box amid pure white tissue paper was the skull of an animal.  Inside of the eye sockets of that skull John had placed purple wildflowers that he picked in the yard that morning.  Because of the heat and humidity of that mid-May morning, the skull attracted flies and bugs.  When the lid to the box was lifted, those bugs swarmed at my face.

I will never, ever forget that moment — ever.  I cannot explain in human terms how much that hurt.  I could never express to you the pain I felt that morning.  I sat trance-like as the kids jumped up and down yelling, “Ewww…..where’d you find this skull, Dad? Is it a dead dog?  A fox?  A possum?  What is it, Dad?”

Dog_SkullThe kids were young.  A skull is exciting to a little boy, and I had five very excited little boys.  They thought it was a really “cool” gift that their dad got me.  How would they know any different?

 I remember looking up at John and he had the most horrifying sneer on his face — almost scary.  He enjoyed seeing me hurt.  I could feel it.  I saw it on his face.  And, I knew on that day in May that I no longer loved this man with all of my being.  This time the pain had gone too deep.  He cut out a piece of my heart, stomped on it, and killed it.  He killed part of my spirit that day and that part of my heart has never come back to life.

The ride to church was quiet on that Sunday, Mother’s Day morning.  I looked out the car window and softly cried.  I wanted to scream and sob and punch in a wall but I held a tissue over my mouth and muffled my voice so the kids wouldn’t hear me crying. I didn’t want them telling everyone at church that I had been crying.

Somehow, I prayed to God that it was all a big, ugly joke.  I prayed that when we went home there would miraculously be the rocking chair sitting in the middle of the room.  Of course you and I know that wasn’t so.  My gift was a rotting skull with flies flying from the eye sockets.  And, I knew from that moment on that I was nothing more than a convenience for John.  Love doesn’t hurt like that.  Love would never hurt like that!

It was years until I shared that story with a counselor and I remember the odd look on her face.  She simply said, “Maybe he has a personality disorder.”  And, it was dismissed.  That left me feeling a bit crazy.  Maybe I was overly emotional because of the pregnancy on that particular day.  Maybe it was just meant to be a funny kind of joke. Victims of abuse always have a thousand reasons why it’s always their fault.  Victims of abuse never want to hold the abuser accountable.  Victims feel ashamed and powerless. 

The red flags of manipulation and control that are part of a practicing pedophile’s profile were there!  The kids thought their dad was the absolute best!  He told funny stories that made them laugh so hard they would cry.  He loved playing basketball with them.  He built campfires and told scary stories.  He took them on nature hikes.  He was, in their words, “the best dad in the world.”

I was the one who disciplined.  I was the one who made them pick up their dirty laundry, clear away their dinner plates, make their beds.  I was the mean mother who lost her temper and was never fun.  I was the cranky one.  The one who didn’t have a sense of humor.

John was building up his airtight support system!  He used “shock” methods in front of the kids to desensitize them to the wrong he was doing to me, and later on to the children in the community.  Why would his kids ever believe wrong about their dad who was their hero?  Besides, I was the perfect enabler.  I didn’t call him on the carpet for things such as the skull gift, so they didn’t really see anything too wrong with that. I didn’t speak badly of John to the kids.  In fact, this story never got out.  Isn’t it amazing how this was an “understood” thing that none of us would talk about in public?  As young as the kids were nobody told them not to say anything at church.  And, believe me, tons of people were asking me what I got for Mother’s Day.  I just said through dripping eyes, “John got me a special surprise.”  And, their response — “You’re the luckiest woman I know!  My husband would never get me anything for Mother’s Day — not even a card!”  If only they had known………..

Pedophiles who molest children are liars.  They manipulate.  They control.  They build a wall of support so that nobody — and I mean nobody — would ever suspect them of molesting a child! John was loved and adored by his children.  He was cherished by the people of the church where he served as minister.  He was a servant to people in the community.  He went out of his way to show love to others.  He was a practicing pedophile and he was masterful at grooming his victims! 

Memorize this quote  and keep saying it until you really understand and believe it:   After a molester is exposed, it is common for adults to say things like, “He was the last guy I would suspect to do something like this.” Molesters become friends to adults, helping them out, being friendly and nice, and just doing things that friends would do. They don’t do this out of kindness; they do this to get to your children. 

 

For the sake of the children, let’s speak out!  It’s time to bring these actions to a halt! 

 

Thank you so much for your comments, for following along with this blog, and for continuing to share it with many!  Be sure to put your email where it says to “subscribe” if you want to receive a brief notification of each blog entry.  I assure you that you will not want to miss even one of these posts.

Again, thank you!  Together we are making a difference!

 

 

Married to a Pedophile: The Climbing Ivy Exposed So Many Secrets!

Thank you for visiting this blog once again and for sharing it with so many others.  If you happen to be new here, I would strongly encourage you to start reading from the beginning of this blog on how to protect our children from practicing pedophiles.  The blog entries are short, but I can’t promise you that they are easy reading because they are not.  You will become uncomfortable.  You will begin to question others and their motives.  And, if you have been abused, hopefully there will be something you read that will help you to become empowered!

Let’s pick up where we left off the last time in this ongoing unraveling of my story about what it was like to be married to a man who molested children the entire time he and I were married.  If only I had known what “red flags” to look for I could have saved children from falling into the trap of this man who used his cunning, divisive ways to lure adults and children alike into his web of lies, deceit, and abuse.

John was now a full-time preacher and for the most part he was adored by his church members — both young and old alike.  He had a way of coddling the elderly into liking him immediately.  He was soft-spoken, respectful, and always helpful.  Let me add he was funny, too.  It seems he always had a great story to tell that would get even the crankiest old person smiling.

And, we know he was a hit with kids of all ages.  They clung to him — craving his attention.  He was the kind of preacher they wanted and loved. Continue reading

Married to a Pedohile: Studying the Bible with a Pedophile

Thanks so much once again for continuing to read, digest this information, share, and comment.  I truly believe that our voices are being heard and will ultimately make a difference.

Last week we took a side-step from the progressing story of the red flags that I should have seen during my almost forty years of being married to a pedophile.  The subject of manipulation and spousal abuse is a bigger one than I imagined and deserves its own special attention.  After reading so many of your comments, I am beginning to understand the magnitude of not just pedophilia, but of abuse in general.  It literally breaks my heart. I’m beginning to understand more and more the emotional turmoil of so many people in bad relationships.  This kind of pain – emotional and physical abuse – leaves scars that run deep.  Clear to the soul!

Let’s continue today with the story of my life living with a pedophile.  Sometimes the weeks went along uneventfully and there wasn’t much that seemed out of the ordinary.  Other times there were things that stuck out and caused so many questions – questions that never really had good answers.

One such question to John was this:  “Why you are driving over one hour to pick up two mentally disabled girls to have a Bible study with them?  They don’t understand much of anything you’re saying, and you know that!”  Continue reading

Married to a Pedophile: A Letter from an Abused Wife

Thank you so much to all of my readers and for the thousands who are now sharing this blog.  You have no idea how much this means to me!  God is using my brokenness to help others who are in the grip of an abusive relationship or who are being physically abused and molested to speak out and break free!!!  I believe with all of my heart that together we are making a difference!

Last night I received a message from someone I have never met telling me that she would love to get the courage to speak up about her abuse.  Her husband (who will not agree to divorcing her — talk about control!) continues to harass her and bully her children and unfortunately we do not have laws to help innocent victims such as these until something more horrible is done.  And, even then, our laws are so weak that it’s difficult to prove abuse in a court of law.  That, to me, has got to stop!

I encouraged this lady to write something — anything — and by writing it would dilute the power this man holds over her and give her some empowerment.

Through tears, I’m sharing with you that she got the courage to write a blog post.  She said, “I have no followers.  I must remain anonymous for fear of what he will do, but I was inspired to write this.”

I’m so proud of her for gaining a bit of strength. She’s gained just a wee bit of freedom.  And, she did something! 

Here is what she wrote with the link back to her site.

Clara Hinton – a modern day Heroine

Posted on by missspirit

“For the past few months I have been avidly following the blog of Clara Hinton – Married to a Pedophile.  And although I have never met Clara in person, I am so in awe and inspired by her courage and spirit. She is also an amazing mother to eleven children – her son Chris, described her as a saint! She also has lots more grand children. Over the years, Clara suffered terrible psychological abuse at the hands of her preacher/pedophile husband, John. At the same time, he led a secret life which involved sexually abusing children in his parish (and community). Clara’s abuse lasted for around 40 years until she plucked up the courage to leave. Of course that was not the end of the story because controlling, abusive men never just let their wives walk away peacefully or seek a win: win compromise. They just can’t do it and it is really because they are sick and need help! But due to the very nature of this illness, they won’t admit to themselves that they need help and continue to turn on others, usually those who are closest to them.

Clara’s husband was a well respected Preacher and pillar of the society, and no-one initially could believe that he was capable of such hideous behaviour, as his public persona was totally different to his secret, dark side.

Here is the link to Clara’s blog:  http://www.findingahealingplace.com

I urge everyone to read Clara’s blog for her own in-depth account. Thankfully, Clara’s husband is safely behind bars now for abusing children so the children are now safe from him. Clara’s family really are an inspiration to society because of their strength of spirit and authenticity. They are now left picking up the pieces of the devastation that has been left behind, but they are doing so in such a dignified and sophisticated manner. Clara & her son Chris’ authenticity have inspired me to try do the same when faced with a really difficult life situation.

As you can see, this story has really got my attention and resonates often with me in a very personal way, as I too was married to a psychologically abusive man. Although thankfully he is not a pedophile, he is however a deeply damaged person who uses control, manipulation and threats to try and keep his weird and warped agenda together. After seeking the advice of experts, I now believe that he suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Like Clara’s husband John, in public my husband could not be more charming, charismatic and helpful. But look a little more closely and there are many red flags which should warn others of such dangerous personalities. This blog is really difficult for me to write as it brings up lots of emotional pain to the surface. But if my story, like Clara’s can help and educate other young men and women about the signs, then hopefully it will help people avoid or be able to get out of these highly damaging relationships much sooner than Clara and I were able to. We all deserve to live free and authentic lives, so trust your vibes people!”

Do you know how proud I am of this woman for getting the courage to not only read my blog, but to write some of her story?  This took guts!  It took inner strength!  It took her everything!  I doubt I will ever meet this lady, but I know one thing.  She has a voice and she’s using it to speak out!  And, this is how each of us will make a difference!

Her husband is not a pedophile like mine is, but he is an emotional abuser — a bully, and a man who controlled her to the point of fear. Not all emotional/psychological abusive people are pedophiles, but all pedophiles are emotional abusers.

It’s time to get better laws on the books.  It’s time we speak out loud and strong and in big numbers to put an end to all abuse — physical, emotional, psychological, and abuse used by pedophiles — the entire gamut, including molesting our innocent children.

Will you help me in this mission?  Help bring awareness to the forefront!  Thank you so much for continuing to share the words written on this blog with thousands of others each day.  We really and truly are making a difference.  There will be a day when this horrible cycle of abuse is no longer tolerated!

Love,

Clara

PS  The next post will continue on with my story:  Married to a Pedophile: The Most Unusual Bible Studies