“I can’t imagine being in your shoes” is one of the most common things said to me. “How do you face people? What’s it like?” Those are valid questions, and they are questions that need to be addressed.
For almost forty years our family was “the family” — adored and respected in our church, among our friends, within our small community, and even across state lines. We were a uniquely large family, especially for this day and age, having eleven children. Even more unique was the fact that they were good kids. Good Christian kids, most of them attending Harding University,
Before I even begin to write to you today, I want to say thank you from the depths of my heart for all of the prayers, kind thoughts, and condolences sent to me following the sudden, unexpected death of my son. You have no idea what your expressions of love have meant to me.
Finding out my husband of almost forty years was a practicing pedophile caused literal pain to my heart — the kind of pain that hurts with every breath you take. But, that pain has been nothing when compared to the pain of losing a child. I can’t explain it — I can only say that all other pain I’ve had in my life so far pales in comparison to the daily Continue reading
At first I sympathized with Dottie Sandusky. I, too, walked in her shoes. The man I loved and trusted and shared my life with was living a double life. The man I married was a pedophile, too, and on some level I connected with Dottie Sandusky. I cried for her when her husband was arrested. I cried for her when she learned the truth about the man she loved. I cried for her because I thought she would stay awake at night crying for the victims who were harmed by her husband. I cried for her because I knew how hard it is to realize that your life has been a lie. I cried for her because I thought she shared the same brokenness that I feel every day of my life for those whose lives have been tormented and shamed and pained in terrible ways by the man I loved.
But, I will not cry for Dottie Sandusky any more! Shame on you! Shame on you, Dottie Sandusky! How can you do this? How can you continue to defend this man? How can you defend this man who sits in prison for committing horrendous acts against children? How can you do this, Dottie Sandusky? Continue reading
It’s been a while since I’ve written and I apologize for that. I’ve been super busy and to tell you the truth writing the last post threw me into a mental fog for a good two weeks. I suffered with nightmares, cold sweats, and went through several nights of not being able to sleep. Remembering is not easy — not when you’re remembering painful events in your life.
If you’re new to this blog, please begin reading from the very beginning. It’s so important for you to grasp just how devious and calculating the actions of pedophiles are. As I recall more events in my life while married to a pedophile, I shake and tremble because I didn’t see life clearly. Pain has a way of masking the truth Continue reading
If you’ve been following along with my story, you know that by now John and I had been in a rocky marriage for a long time. Actually, I take that back. He thought it was a wonderful marriage. I was the one who was constantly confused, upset, hurt, crying, disillusioned, and often felt like I was a bit on the crazy side. He was a difficult man to figure out and by now I had all but quit trying!
This particular event I’m going to tell you about took place in the summer. It was a warm, lovely Friday evening as I remember, and John had been away all week working insurance. He was running on a super high as he had planned a weekend youth retreat for the church. Those events always got him charged up. He was like another person when he was around young people! That’s when he lit up and came to life!
With me he was quiet, had nothing to say, and would literally fall asleep while I was trying to talk to him. I honestly believed that the only reason he was married to me was to have someone to keep up with his laundry, take care of the kids, the bills, and all of the household chores, and to have a delicious home-cooked meal ready for him on those occasions when he was home.
Little by little our marriage was dying, and deep within my soul I knew it. Continue reading