Married to a Pedophile: The Missing Wedding Ring

Posted on July 25, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Thank you so much to all who have been faithfully following along with this blog, and a special thanks to those who continue to share this blog with others. As we learn and grow together about how to spot a pedophile in the grooming process before sexual molestation takes place we are taking some very real steps towards helping to save our children from a lifetime of heartache and struggles.

Please note that this continuing story is not written by a professional counselor or any such person that proclaims to have a degree in sexual molestation behavioral therapy. I am a woman who was married for almost forty years to a practicing pedophile and I didn’t know it. It is my heart’s passion to share with you the information I now know that were “red flags” that I should have recognized. It is my intent for you to learn from my experiences so that we can prevent pedophiles from committing their heinous crimes against children.

If you are new to this blog, please begin here. I’d like you to get the full story so that you can understand just how crafty pedophiles are. You might already be sucked right into this web of manipulation and maybe there is something here that is said that will click with you and empower you enough to stop the perpetrator in his tracks!

Let’s pick up where we left off last week. John and I were the proud parents of a baby girl. She was beautiful and so special. Even though John didn’t seem to have the social skills to know how to treat me he was very at home when with our baby daughter. He talked to her, he played with her, and he seemed so openly at ease with her. In fact, it didn’t take me long to feel a slight bit of jealousy of the attention he was able to shower on her with ease while he seemed to be cold, unfeeling, and emotionless when around me.

My world seemed upside down in so many ways. The man I loved was so affectionate and different with others — outgoing, happy, talkative — when around children and his church friends, but when he was around me he was withdrawn, gloomy, and out of touch. You have no idea how many times I tried to greet him at the door with a hug — a simple hug — only to have him say, “Please don’t touch me like that! I don’t like that. It gives me a weird feeling like I can feel my blood being squeezed through my veins.”

I have no idea what that was all about, but after trying time and time again, I finally backed off and learned John wasn’t a hugger — except with children. He literally pushed me aside and would remove my hands from attempting to give him a hug. How degrading! How humiliating to continuously be shoved aside!

Even more odd to me was the way John showered attention and affection on kids at church. My goodness! There was no holding him back. He tickled, he squeezed, he picked up and twirled kids around, and he loved rough-housing with them!

NOTE: It’s normal for adults to interact with children, but there are safe boundaries. If you see someone moving beyond the normal boundaries using unusual touching, extra close hugging, propping children up on their shoulders, or rolling on the floor using tickling techniques consider these all red flags!!!

I’ll give you a prime example of what I’m talking about. John was now well established with the church as their fill-in youth pastor, and soon-to-be full-time youth pastor. The kids loved him. He was fun! He was full of jokes, and he was always coming up with new, creative games for them to play — all in the name of “church youth activities” to keep the youth group active and alive. The more fun they had, the more they wanted to go to church. That made their parents happy, and they would host youth parties, and allow John to take the kids on special youth outings. *NOTE: Can you see how easy it is for pedophiles to work their way into the “trust” of parents at church?

John often brought kids home with him to hang out and have fun. He seemed to have a knack for finding the shy kids, and one boy in particular that I remember was an asthmatic who didn’t have many friends at all at church. In fact, he was a rather thin, very short boy for his age who was pretty much a loner. John was his hero.

One Saturday afternoon during the summer John went to the church building while I was giving our baby daughter a stroller ride. The next thing I knew, I saw him driving up to the apartment with this boy in tow. As I walked to the apartment John announced (he never asked — always “told” me), “Hey, Tom’s gonna spend the afternoon with me. We’re gonna practice playing ball and we’re just gonna hang out for the afternoon.”

“Fine”, I thought. But, really it wasn’t fine. It would have been nice to spend a fun afternoon together — just the three of us. John never seemed to have time for “family” — it was always the church first! This youth pastor stuff was driving me nuts. He practically lived at that church building. If he wasn’t there he was “hanging out” with kids from church having fun. “Hey, that’s what the parents want me to do. That’s my job. I need to make church fun for these kids.”

So, this boy and John went into the yard that was part of our rental. Since the windows were open I could hear the loud laughter and squeals coming from outside, so I went to the window and just stood in shock. Here’s this man who nearly plays dead when he’s near me and who pushes me away because he doesn’t want to be touched. And, what do I see? He was on the ground, rolling around, tickling this boy, grabbing him from behind and lifting him up onto John’s stomach (very, very weird to me). And, John got him in some kind of arm lock and had this kid tight up against him and they did rolls all across the yard! There I stood watching this craziness from the window all the while thinking, “This is not tossing a ball. This is a big bunch of nonsense!”

In looking back, I can now see the huge red flags all over the place. I know that John’s “preference” at stated in his investigation and conviction was “young girls”, but I have no doubt in my mind that he did his fair share with little boys, too. This is not uncommon for pedophiles to experiment with both sexes until they find the “sex of choice.”

During those hours of horse-play two things happened. That boy had a severe asthma attack and I had to get his mom on the phone and ask what we were to do. He literally couldn’t breathe and he didn’t have his asthma inhaler with him. She was furious! Absolutely furious as she said she had given her son explicit instructions he was to be kept quiet and to stay inside. The Oklahoma heat was detrimental to his asthma.

The second thing that happened was John lost his wedding ring that afternoon. That’s how much rough housing was being done! I’m talking about more than two hours of tickling, rolling together in the grass, tossing this kid around, lifting him up and down, grabbing and holding him until he was so sick that he had to be given a special treatment at the hospital to get air in his passageway.

Life was very fuzzy for me at that time. Fuzzy in the sense that nothing made sense. I saw a man I was married to who was like two different people. He was the glum, quiet, man who ate and slept at home, but rarely contributed to any conversation except to answer in “yes” or “no” words to my attempts to get him to talk to me. His mind always seemed preoccupied with others. At this time in our married lives, his focus was that church youth group. I’ll be honest with you. I was sick of hearing, “I have to go spend time with the kids at church.” I often felt of the church youth group as his adulterous affair, and come to find out, I wasn’t off-base with that thinking!

The “other John” was this crazy, funny, comedian who entertained young teens and children with his jokes, who was loved and adored by the parents of these kids, and who always seemed to charm people. He wasn’t shy or quiet at all when in this type of group situation and it truly baffled me.

NOTE: John did not feel at all bad or apologetic about the boy getting the asthma attack. In fact, he told the mother, “I told him he needed to calm down, but he was too excited. He should have known better.” The mother ended up yelling long and hard at her son. The son just looked at John and never said a word. He had already been groomed enough to not speak up. He craved the attention and affection of John. There was no dad in this home, so the mom was more than willing for John to serve as the male role model in her son’s life.

John did not at all feel bad about losing his wedding band. It would be two years until he replaced it — only because I kept after him. I was a newlywed, for Pete’s sake, and I wanted others to know we were married! I searched on my hands and knees outside for hours trying to find his ring. It was the sentiment that meant the most to me. That was the ring I placed on his finger the day we were married. The emotional loss meant nothing to him. A few years later he went to JC Penney’s to purchase a cheap band in order to keep me quiet. Again, I felt like our marriage was low on this list of his priorities. The more he pushed me away and the more he diminished the importance of our lives together, the more I focused my attention on our daughter. She always had a smile for me. She loved to be hugged. She filled in the gaps for the emotional bonding I was not getting with my husband. Not healthy for any relationship, by any means!

So, what does all of this mean in terms of how to identify a child molester? Where are the red flags?

There are many! John had an almost “giddiness” about spending time with the young kids from church. He neglected his wife and daughter in order to spend time away with others. This is a huge red flag! His priority should have been at home!

He was two different personalities — outgoing, fun, the life of the party with those he was trying to impress (in this case, this was his “grooming” time). At home he was distant, did not talk, private, and very unaffectionate. This drove me about crazy! It made me feel once again like an “ugly, unattractive, wife.” Often, he looked at me with a look that I could only call disgust. Sadly, I spent many hours sitting at home crying as I held our baby close. She was my only comfort at this time.

John thrived on being a hero to others! Beware of this!!! A husband should be a hero-type to his wife first. All others (except God) should come second. This was never the case in our marriage.

His tickling, touching, and game playing went well beyond normal boundaries with children. Again, stand back and watch for this because it is a big clue that is often overlooked! There are right and wrong ways of interacting with children. A pedophile’s hands are quick! They have studied long and hard how to touch in erogenous zones in order to arouse the child without the child knowing. Later on this “touching technique” will be used to proceed ahead to further sexual stimulation while making the child feel responsible and guilty. This one thing causes life-long problems for victims of sexual molestation — being groomed to feel that they are responsible for this sexual exploitation and molestation.

Our married life was broken. I felt alone. We were not communicating. John was distant. He had a quiet, controlling way of making me feel belittled and ashamed that I wasn’t the wife I should have been. I was wrecked — “damaged” as he often called me. A term I would learn was part of a pedophile’s vocabulary. He often reminded me that I came from a broken, dysfunctional family and I didn’t know a good relationship from a bad one. There were days I felt like I was crazy. And, that is just how he wanted it!

Next week we will talk about his job — the mystery of the “elder’s meeting” and the lies that were told to me!

Thank you so much for following along. Often, we really do feel crazy for questioning the motives of others, but I can’t repeat it enough. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. Pay attention to your gut feelings!

Emotional abuse is very intentional, and it cripples your ability to think and to take action. Once you’re caught in this horrible web of intentional abuse, it’s so hard to find the strength to get out — and that’s just what the pedophile is counting on! The weaker you get, the stronger the pedophile gets!!

Let’s be smarter! Let’s get educated! Let’s look for those red flags! Let’s speak out loudly! For the sake of the children, let’s stop these molesters in their tracks!

Thank you for reading. Thank you for sharing this blog with others. Thank you for caring enough to get educated! For our children, we must stop child molesters in the grooming stage — before they reach our children! And, that means being smarter than they are. Together we can do it!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: And Baby Makes Three!!!

Posted on July 17, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Thanks so much for continuing to read this unfolding story of what it was like to unknowingly be married to a pedophile for almost forty years. As I’m digging back through the journals of my mind, I can’t help but think about all of the red flags, the questions, and the strange things that went on in our marriage. But, still — I remind myself that at the time those things meant nothing because I wasn’t equipped with the knowledge to know how to pick up on any of the waving flags in front of me.

And, that’s why we have this blog — to make sure that you are educated so that you can be aware of the way pedophiles work and ultimately so that you can protect the children — all children! Every child deserves to grow up in a world without fear of molestation!

If you are new to this blog, I’d suggest you begin at the very beginning. This is quick reading and it won’t take you long to catch up.

Last week we left off with New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Moving forward, our baby’s due date was January 23. As things happened, I had a clinic appointment on Friday, January 22 at 11:00 in the morning. The physician that saw me said I wasn’t ready to deliver this baby and he estimated another two weeks, so John and I went back to our apartment on that sunny, brisk day in Oklahoma City and he announced that he was going to drive to the college (Oklahoma Christian College) to stop by and see some friends and to wash the car.

I’m not a whiny type of person, but being as pregnant as one can get and a bit afraid I begged him to stay home or let me go with him to wash the car. The college was twenty miles away, and that was back in the day before cell phones. Once a person was on the highway, that was it. No way of tracking them down.

“You’ll be just fine. You don’t need me here with you. I’m going to run out to the college, wash the car, and I’ll be back before you know it. Why don’t you take a nap?”

A nap sounded like a good idea to me. I really wasn’t feeling well at all. In fact, I didn’t eat a bite for lunch. I told John my back hurt so bad it felt like it was killing me. Back in the day, doctors didn’t talk openly about childbirth, and there was no internet access to search for information, so you were left sitting in the dark about a lot of things. And, I’ll be quite honest, I wasn’t really sure what was happening to my body. I had heard some pretty scary stories of women screaming in pain while having a baby, but other than that, I knew nothing. Isn’t that sad? I’m so glad we live in an age where information is available to us!

As John walked towards the steps to leave, I begged him to stay with me. I kept telling him I didn’t feel well, but he kept telling me he’d be back before I knew it. And, off he went. I watched from the kitchen window as he pulled out of the driveway of the apartment, and then I laid down to try to rest.

Note: Do you remember in a previous post where John said I looked ugly when I was pregnant? That thought kept coming back to me. “I’m fat. I’m ugly. I’m not even me any more.” And, the tears started. I’m sure they were pregnancy-related tears, but none-the-less, I felt alone and miserable. I felt like an old house that had fallen apart and been wrecked and left desolate. It was a miserable feeling laying on that lumpy cot of a thing called a bed!

Then something happened…………something horrible. I felt the most uncomfortable squeezing pain I had ever felt in my life! I tried every which way to feel better, but nothing worked! “Oh, gosh! I wish John was here! Why did he have to go twenty miles away to wash the car today? Why did the car even need to be washed?”

I tried walking and couldn’t. The pain was horrible. I know you’re going to think this is crazy, but I got on all fours to try to relieve some of the pressure off of my back. It hurt so bad I can’t even tell you. I crawled to the phone, and called the college. I thought maybe someone could track down John for me, but that was a joke. No such thing was going to happen.

One hour….two hours….three hours…..by now I was hysterical with fear. Where was John? He knew I wasn’t feeling well when he left! Oh, here we go again! Alone!!!

It wasn’t until 5:30 that evening that John finally came strolling upstairs to find me crying and so afraid that this baby was ready to be born! My brain was in such a fog that I couldn’t think straight. All I knew was I was in major, continuous pain and I was never so glad to see John than I was at that moment!

“Where were you? What took almost five hours to stop in at the school and wash the car?” He looked at me with the most puzzled look — like I was crazy. It was a look as if to say, “Why would you ever question ME? What’s wrong with YOU? I don’t really owe you any explanation.” Throughout the years I learned to know that look quite well.

And, then John did something that still blows me away! He said he was hungry and was going to fix himself some supper. He was hungry?!? We were about to have a miracle — a baby — and he had been gone for close to five hours leaving me alone in labor and he was hungry?

John very slowly, carefully, and happily fixed himself one of the largest hamburgers I’ve ever seen in my life. I can still see him sitting at our old table in the kitchen shoving in that burger — barbecue sauce dripping down his face as he ate in silence. I was retching in pain by now, and he seemed oblivious to it all.

Alert: Pedophiles think about themselves first — always themselves first! Please remember that. You will not change their thinking!

I was in so much pain at this point that I felt faint. I kept asking him to get me to the hospital, and he said he would as soon as he was finished eating. Talk about control! Talk about selfishness!

Finally, at 8:00 p.m. we headed out to Oklahoma University Hospital. I was in so much pain that I thought I’d die along the way. John never seemed to bat an eye. His mind was elsewhere.

I won’t go into the details here, but after a long, hard, difficult night of labor, a doctor finally told me that they were going to give me a spinal and the baby would be a forceps delivery. This meant nothing to me — I had never heard the word “forceps” before. But, I knew one thing — if it meant ending the horrible, crushing back pain, I was all for it!

At 4:30 a.m., on Saturday, January 23 (right on the due date), our perfect little daughter entered this world! I cannot even begin to put into words what I felt! Honestly, I know that this little girl was a miracle! She was gorgeous — all 8 lbs. 7 oz. of her! I counted her little fingers and toes over and over again in complete awe!

John was never a man of many words and the same was true now at our baby’s birth. He didn’t kiss me. He didn’t say, “I love you.” Not once. He was happy, though. I could tell. For the first time in a long time, I could see that he was genuinely happy and proud to have this baby come join our lives. I felt like this was a new beginning for us — a wonderful addition to “us” that would maybe change things for the better.

Note: Don’t ever think that adding a baby to your family will make things better. If your relationship isn’t good prior to a baby, it will not be better after a baby. Babies require our time, our devotion, and our attention. They require our energy, our money, and our every resource.

I’ll be honest with you. I was so happy holding this baby that at times I felt like I couldn’t breathe. She was gorgeous. And, she needed me. Finally, somebody needed me and wanted to be with me. She didn’t judge me. She didn’t reject me. She loved me unconditionally. She was mine and I was hers, and I was happy!

So, what are the “red flags” here, you might be asking. It’s all about control. Living as a pedophile and a practicing child molester is all about control!

From the words of a pedophile in the book, “Conversations With a Pedophile”, Alan explains, “Manipulating was a way of life for me. It’s not the physical but the mental and emotional devastation that ultimately causes the greatest thrill for me. Normally it wasn’t too long before my current victim was ‘begging’ me. I enjoyed the begging…enjoyed what I was doing.”

Please read those words over and over again until they really sink in! I believe John left me alone while in labor because he enjoyed seeing me beg him to stay. I believe he enjoyed seeing me crawling in pain begging him to get me relief by taking me to the hospital. He was in charge! I believe he enjoyed taking his time eating while I was in labor begging him to get me help. He was the one calling the shots, and he enjoyed it!

Next week, we will uncover more of what goes on inside of a pedophile’s mind. Remember the pedophile is your neighbor. He’s your minister. He’s your teacher. He’s your policeman. He’s your gardener. He’s your friend. Yes, he could even be your husband! Pay attention to those inner nudgings — those red flags that something isn’t quite right! Those feelings usually hold true! If it doesn’t seem right, it usually isn’t!

Thanks for hanging in here with me as we learn more about the inner makings of a pedophile. For the protection of our children, we must be armed with good, solid information that will help us identify these predators and stop them in their tracks!

Thanks so much for your comments, your input, and the connection we are making. Together I believe we can make a difference. Together — for the sake of the children we must make a difference!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: Our First New Year’s Eve

Posted on July 10, 2013 by Clara Hinton

A very warm welcome to those of you who are here. I appreciate the continued interest and response coming from so many people who are interested in keeping our children safe from child molesters. While I do not ever claim to be an expert on this topic, I do have years of experience with knowing how a pedophile plans and works so hard to groom, manipulate, and eventually molest children. Unknown to me until two years ago, I was married to a practicing pedophile. There were definitely “red flags” all throughout our marriage, but I didn’t have a clue what these indicators meant. The sole purpose of this blog is to educate you so that you can be aware of things to look out for that might be red flags that you’re seeing, too, so that we can keep our children safe. Education is the most powerful first step we can take against child predators!

If you are new to this blog, I suggest you begin by reading from the very beginning of my story.

Last week we took a bit of a break from the sequence of this story to interject some important information about a letter I recently received from John while he currently is serving time in prison. Most of you “got it” — you understood that even as a pedophile sits in prison aware that he is there because he has committed the most vile acts against a child, his mind is still on one thing: little children. In fact, as I shared with you, John was bold in his request for photos of little children, promising “not to have those naughty thoughts” because he has been forgiven and is now “free.” Hopefully and prayerfully, nobody will fall into this trap of manipulation that he continues to use. Please, do NOT send this man photos of any children to be exploited, shared, and used for self-stimulation and gratification!

Now, to continue on with our story, let’s pick up where we left off. Christmas was a disaster — lots of heartache and tears. But, I really believed that redemption would come with New Year’s Eve.

By this time, I was just days away from our first baby being born. In fact, our due date was January 23. As is true for almost every woman alive, I was looking forward to spending a wonderful New Year’s Eve with my husband. This was our very first time to bring in the New Year as a married couple so I planned a special Pennsylvania “good luck” meal — mashed potatoes, pork roast, and sauer kraut. I wanted to make this a super, extra special night for John to remember! Since we were living below poverty level at the time, I knew there wouldn’t be anything real festive, but….I thought it would be so much fun after our meal together to drive around Oklahoma City and look at the last of the Christmas lights and tinsel and simply enjoy spending some time together talking about the coming year and the addition of our baby. You have no idea how happy just the thought of spending this time together meant to me!

Two nights before New Year’s eve John hit me with the news. “Dear, I have to tell you something and you’re probably not going to be happy.” *Note: I hated to be called “Dear” — I don’t know why, but I didn’t like it. Maybe it’s because I knew it almost always was followed by some sort of bad news.

“There’s going to be a big New Year’s Eve party for the teens at church. I’ve been working on the plans for this party for several weeks now, and I think it’s best if you don’t go. It’s going to be all night long, and your back will be killing you. You won’t feel good and I won’t have time to run you home and then go back to the party.”

Honestly, I can still remember when John had “the talk” with me un-inviting me to spend New Year’s Eve with him. I know what dress I had on, and I can tell you where I was standing in the tiny kitchen when he threw that dart ever so swiftly at me.

“What do you mean? Why can’t I be with you? I want to spend New Year’s Eve with YOU!!! This is our first one together, and I don’t want to sit here in this apartment by myself. Please can’t I go?”

I feel humiliated telling this story. I really do. Somehow it makes me feel so unattractive and repulsive. I’m actually sweating and I can feel my heart racing as I’m writing this. It’s a horrible feeling to know this kind of rejection.

John didn’t flinch. “I told you that you can’t go. I have too many games planned and it’s my job to keep things going at this youth activity. It’s my job as youth minister. You know that. I can’t be babysitting you and taking care of the party, too.”

I was quickly learning not to fight the inevitable. John was a quiet man — very rarely in all of our forty years together did I ever hear him raise his voice. But, he was immovable in what he said. Once he said he was doing something, there was no changing his mind. I learned that very quickly in this first year of marriage.

There would be no need to make the pork roast and sauer kraut. John wouldn’t be home. He was eating with the church kids. There would be no driving around the city to see the lights. There would be no wearing the dime-store party hat on New Year’s Eve. Instead, I would be spending this first New Year’s Eve alone.

It’s embarrassing to say this, but I went to bed crying that night. Instead of fighting back, I whimpered like a dog that had been kicked in the gut and sent outside for being a bad dog. There were no hugs from John. No apologies. No saying he’d make it up to me. A saying I used over and over in my life was true, “It is what it is.” He would be leaving me home on our first New Year’s Eve.

All day December 31, I kept hoping and praying that John would change his mind. Better yet, I kept praying that somehow he was teasing me. I don’t know why I always thought that way — a coping mechanism for heartbreak, I guess. I got dressed that day and put on a fake happy face hoping beyond all hope that sometime during the day he’d say, “I was only kidding. You know that. How in the world could I ever leave you home alone on New Year’s Eve?”

But, that moment never came. Instead, he spent hours in the locked bathroom (his usual habit that I finally accepted) with the “party planning book” and his notebook of games they were going to play. He got all spiffed up, put on extra cologne (he used Old Spice — funny how I can still remember the smell), and clipped his finger nails. Isn’t it strange how much we can remember when we’ve either experienced a life-changing wonderful moment or a moment of trauma that has been imprinted forever in our subconscious?

I held back the tears….I fought so hard to hold back the tears as John drove away for the party. I watched from the upstairs apartment window, waving good-bye, and then running to the bedroom where I buried my face in a pillow and sobbed through the entire night!

I remember sobbing so hard that I thought I’d go into labor. I remember thinking, “I didn’t even get a phone number of where he’ll be if I need him.” I remember not even having the strength or desire to turn on the TV to watch New Year’s Eve celebrations across the country. I wanted one thing — to be with my husband. That’s all. I just wanted to be near him. I would have been happy to just sit in the same room where he was, and he knew it. Instead, he pushed me away and made me feel ugly, disgusting, and worthless.

I kept getting up to use the bathroom — my bladder was not in the best shape due to being so pregnant. At one point Vashti (one of the sisters that lived beneath us) called up the steps, “Are you okay, Mrs. Hinton?” I know that she heard me crying (okay, sobbing — loudly!), and the toilet kept flushing. I walked to the steps and just said, “I’m okay. Thanks for asking.” I’m sure that Vashti and her sister wondered the same as I was wondering. Why was I left home alone on New Year’s Eve?

I’ve thought long and hard over the years about that one question. Why would any husband do this to his wife? Why would a Christian husband to this to his wife? Why would a newly married man do this to his wife? Why would a decent human being (even if just friends) do this to anyone?

As I’ve studied more about the minds of pedophiles, I’ve learned that “control” and “manipulation” are their driving forces. It’s not initially about the sex, although that comes into play later on (terrifyingly so). But, initially, it’s about control. A mad, almost savage need to be in total control. And, I now better understand why John treated me the way he did. He had total control without ever raising his voice or his hand. He could never be labeled a “wife abuser” by anyone in the outside world because he never did anything that even came close to looking like abuse. And, in fact, I was made to feel rather crazy. I was confused. I couldn’t understand what I had done to “deserve” being treated this way. Just as a child often wonders why a parent pushed aside a child — I was that child. I didn’t understand why I was being pushed away. What I have come to understand now is that I was being purposefully mistreated. I was being crushed in spirit. I was being belittled. I was being manipulated. And, my abuser (John) was seeing just how far he could go before I would tell.

Much to his delight I never told. Just as the abused children very rarely ever tell. I was forced into such a broken, confused state of being that I would never tell. I craved his love and blamed myself for not getting it. Can you understand a bit more why little children who have been molested never tell? Can you imagine how confused their young minds are?

What did John do that New Year’s Eve? I don’t know. I know he put on quite a show for the teens at church. He was the center of attention, so I heard in church on Sunday. He was a comic. I heard the teens saying he was the funniest guy they ever met! He planned all kinds of fun games. He ate great food. He was happy to tell me of all of the good food he ate! And, he planned a wonderful midnight devotional where several kids from the youth group gave their lives to Christ. From what others could see, John was one amazing young man!

However, while John was being a “Christian” and converting others, I was at home alone begging and pleading God to somehow teach me how to become a better wife so that my husband would love me.

REMEMBER THIS: Child molesters know what they are doing! They hurt on purpose. They do not care. They lie. They cheat. They will steal your heart and tramp on it. They will take the innocence away from a small child and feel jubilant over their success! And, they groom and manipulate adults prior to grooming and manipulating the children. Why? So that they are never suspected of such heinous wrong doing!

I will close this by saying that John came home about 2:30 a.m. New Year’s Day. I was wide awake waiting for him. I pretended to be so happy that “his party” was such a success. He had to know how much I was broken because there was no hiding my swollen eyes that had been crying all night. And, any person with an ounce of common sense or a shred or love would never have left his wife home alone on New Year’s Eve. He was happy. Another notch of victory for John!

Next week we will talk about the arrival of our first child. Until then, please read the words I’ve written carefully. Read them again and again until it sinks in as to how demeaning a pedophile is. Read these words and understand how calculated every action of a child molester is. Nothing is done randomly. Every action is well thought out — planned ahead with much thought. Do you see yourself in such a situation? If so — RUN as fast as you can and if you have children take them with you!!!

If you are the victim of any abuse, learn the strategies of these abusers and don’t allow yourself to be beaten down ever again! Pedophiles are on a power trip and they use their power to beat others down emotionally. They use children for their sexual and emotional gratification. And, by so doing, they cause a lifetime of terror and pain for these children!

For the children — let’s get smarter and stop this abuse now!

Thank you for reading. And, thank you so very much for caring. Together we can get educated about pedophiles and the way their minds work so that we can stop them in their tracks well before they reach our children. Our children deserve a carefree, innocent childhood! Every child deserves to be treated respectually and with love! Help me in this mission to educate! Spread the word. Be on the lookout. Speak out when you suspect any kind of abuse. And, please hold your children just a bit closer to you every day and tell them how much you love them. They are precious and they depend on us to take care of them. Let’s get educated and empowered — for the children!

Love,

Clara

PS John’s case was said to be one of the most “complicated cases” of child molestation in a long time. To this day, I do not know if he also abused older children. He said his “favored age” was young, prepubescent girls, but I know for a fact that he also molested older girls. I’ll never know for sure how wide the net of his molestation went, but that’s not the purpose of this blog. The purpose of this is to educate you of the cunning ways of pedophiles and how they also groom adults into thinking they are wonderful people. John, to this day, is a wonderful person to many. Hardly a week goes by that I don’t get a call or an email saying, “I know John did this stuff, BUT — he was so good to me and my family. He will always be a pillar of strength to me.” That’s manipulation at its best!

As always, I welcome your comments!

Married to a Pedophile: A Letter from Prison

Posted on July 5, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Thanks so much for the overwhelming interest and response to this blog. It makes me so happy to see so many people getting involved in this serious issue of protecting our children from predators and eventual molestation of innocent children. If you are new to this blog, I would suggest that you begin reading here. Please remember that this is my story. I do not claim to be an expert on all the different aspects of a pedophile and the behavior of a pedophile. What I do know is this: I know how my life was affected and changed living for almost forty years with a practicing pedophile. And, I want to share that with you so that you can learn from me. I want you to know what red flags to look for so that you don’t fall into the same trap that I did!

Last week, I had the privilege of being a guest blogger, and I thank Loony (Erica) for giving me an opportunity to voice my opinion on her blog, “Thoughts of a Lunatic” on the very complex topic of whether or not a pedophile can be rehabilitated. This post is going to go in a different direction just for today because I feel it’s so important for you to understand the way a pedophile thinks long-term. At least the way the pedophile in my life is thinking.

A couple of weeks ago, I received my third letter from John since he has been in prison. I have not spoken to him since he was under investigation. I have chosen to remain silent with him for a number of reasons, and one of the reasons will become apparent to you when I share just a few lines from a letter from him to me.

John’s letter was two pages, hand written front and back. The first line that grabbed my heart and began to shred it was this: “Dear Clara, I’m sorry I have ruined your life.” That’s as far as I read until the tears came pouring from my eyes — actually, the tears came pouring from my heart. Those words — “ruined your life” — felt like I was being stabbed with a knife over and over and over again. Cold, hard stabs. My first response was to sob, then curl up in a ball and cry for the next several hours. It’s still so hard for me to grasp this whole thing. I gave my heart, my very soul to a man that I loved and little by little my heart was kicked, beaten, and bruised until the final chapter when this letter arrived from prison and simply said, “I’m sorry I ruined your life.”

As you are reading these words, please think back to the post about rehabilitating a pedophile. I don’t think it’s possible, and when I read further on down through the letter I’m convinced that the pedophile I was married to can never be rehabilitated.

As his words continued, he said, “I’m sorry that you had to see my dark side. This has hurt you, I’m sure, but you’ve always been strong, and I have a favor to ask of you.” Ah, I knew it! I knew he could never leave it simply being sorry and asking forgiveness. Here we go to the real John. He’s going to ask (which really means “tell”) me what I’m supposed to do!

My tears continued to fall like pouring rain. How? How could this man be asking me to do something for him when he had caused so much destruction in my life, the lives of each of his children, his grandchildren, and so many others who knew him? If this has been me, I honestly believe I would have taken my life. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. But, the mind of a pedophile doesn’t work that way. John was thinking about John.

What did he want? He wanted me to talk to the kids and ask them why they weren’t all writing him. Why can’t they forgive him and have a normal relationship with him? I almost came out of my skin at that point! Are you kidding me? You’ve wrecked so many people in so many different ways and you want me to fix it?

Note: Pedophiles do not take responsibility for their actions. They find an escape and someone else to blame.

John said, and I quote, “I have been forgiven by Abba Father. The minute I asked Abba, I was forgiven. Now, I want you to get the kids to forgive me so that we can be a family again.” Really? Really, John? You want ME to fix this for you? It’s not going to happen!

Reading his letter made me feel like I had been swallowed up by some giant lie and I was trapped and suffocating and needed to get out — needed to run away — break loose, so I could get some air. I didn’t finish that letter that night. Instead, I sobbed deep, hard sobs into my pillow for hours and hours.

Those words, “ruined your life” and “you’re strong……you need to get the kids to forgive me” kept playing over in my head again and again and again until finally I bolted upright around 4:00 a.m., and it was like a light bulb went on! He was at it again! He was using me from prison! Or, let’s rephrase that — he was trying to use me from prison. But it wasn’t going to work. Not this time! Never, ever again will I give that man permission to manipulate me, to use me, and to trick me into doing anything for him. NEVER! This is his responsibility to win back his kids’ respect, love, and forgiveness. Not mine! I will not be the enabler — the fixer — any more again!

It took me about two weeks to open up that letter again and finish reading it. What I read stirred feelings that I don’t think I’ve ever had before. It was a mixture of horror, anger to the point of rage, heart pain that felt like my chest was going to explode, and a sadness that felt like I had fallen into a deep, bottomless pit.

There it was. In writing. Right before my eyes. “I’ve been forgiven. I know I did wrong, but I’ve never felt more freedom in all of my life. I’m teaching Bible studies in prison — like the Apostle Paul. I’m in the church choir. And, I’m doing a lot of one-on-one teaching. I’m evangelizing from inside these prison walls. But, I miss seeing everyone. Can you tell ________________ to send me pictures of the kids? I really need to see them. I’ve been made whole, and I know I won’t ‘those thoughts’ again.”

In this letter, he specifically asked for photos of little girls. Not parents. Not photos of their families. But, of the little girls.

And, I knew. At that moment, I knew that all of the crying. All of the brokenness. All of the wishing things were different was for naught. John says he is forgiven. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. But, I can tell you one thing. He is not changed. Not at all. He is trying to manipulate me (and others) into sending him pictures of little children. He is masking his motives. He is trying hard. He is being persistent. He is using religion. He is lying. He is the same. He is a practicing pedophile. Only now, thankfully, he is kept away from children.

And, I thank God that the children are safe from this child molester. Every day, I thank God that many, many children are safe because this one man has been taken away from the children!

Sometimes it’s easy to fall into this trap of, “God has forgiven me, why can’t you? And, by the way, send me some pictures of little kids because I’m all okay now.” Do NOT fall for it! Please, be on your guard. Pay attention. Stay alert at all times! Pedophiles are lurking, watching, planning, wanting, desiring, and acting. They take innocent lives and hurt them — causing deep, lasting pain. Please, for the children, let’s continue to stay alert and on guard so that we can protect our children!

Next week, I’ll go back to my regular writing. I’ll be talking about our first New Year’s Eve together. Let’s just say it was a party like none other! But, for today I felt it was important to update you on the ongoing thoughts of a pedophile — even when caught, proven guilty with tons of evidence, claiming forgiveness and a new, clean slate, yet still……wanting the children and boldly asking — demanding, manipulating — for those selfish, hurtful, evil desires to be fulfilled.

Keep alert. If someone doesn’t seem right around your children, call that person out. So what if you’re wrong? It’s better to speak up and be wrong than to keep quiet and back off and always wonder if you could have possibly stopped a predator in his tracks!

Thanks for hanging in here with me. I know this is hard reading, but it’s important for us to know — to really understand how a pedophile works.

As always, I appreciate your comments and your thoughts. And, I thank you for caring for the well-being of innocent children!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: Odd Behavior

Posted on June 14, 2013 by Clara Hinton

If you are new to this blog, I’d suggest you begin by reading at the very beginning. This is not a story about my beliefs on child sexual molestation, but rather my personal story of how I came to be married to a pedophile for almost forty years without knowing. My story is being shared so that others can be saved. My story is for the children.

As time moved on, I began to notice some behavior that I thought was a bit odd. Keep in mind that my twelve-year-old sister was living with us for the summer, so she and I had ample opportunity to talk in the evenings when John wasn’t home. But, what she said to me often flew right past my head. She was a kid, and I was the recently married, newly pregnant wife and mother. What did she know? Well, come to find out, she had some pretty good insights. If only I had listened more closely!

Every night coming home from work was a new experience. There were often strangers in the house — people I didn’t know. And, these unfamiliar faces were invited for dinner by John . I was hot, tired, sick from being pregnant and did NOT want to entertain strangers, yet here they were. My sister would frequently tell me that she just sat back in our bedroom while John brought these people to the house. Who were they? “Church friends.” That’s the only answer I got. Because there were three or four different church services on a Sunday, I didn’t have a chance of getting to know a lot of different people. But, here in our tiny apartment, were strange “church people” waiting to be fed and wanting to hang out with John. To this day I don’t know who these people were — some men in their 20’s, some guys in their teens, and some younger who needed to be driven to and from their homes. I was told that, “It’s part of my job. I need to get to know all these people if I’m going to be working with them as their youth minister.” I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Pay attention: “Know your house guests! Don’t ever be so accommodating as to back off and be quiet and just do as you’re told! This is your home, too, and marriage is a partnership. You have every right to know details about who is sitting at your table, who is occupying your home when you’re not there, and who is spending more time with your husband than you!” Manipulation in this tiny apartment was well underway!

I can’t tell you how many pool parties for the teens John planned that summer and as God sits above I will tell you this — not once — NEVER ONCE — was I invited to go, nor was my sister invited to go! Why? Again, I was told, “This is part of my job. I have to spend lots of time with these young people and get to know their parents. The elders are really watching me, and they want me to mingle with the kids every spare minute I have.”

Can you imagine how this was? All day John was back and forth between the church building and our apartment with different people of all ages. Pool parties in the evenings, along with basketball, bible studies, youth activity meetings, and on and on it went! I honestly felt like my husband was avoiding me on purpose! I cried often, and in a tiny apartment, there’s no hiding anything. My sister would ask me the next day why I was crying. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be different. We’re married but we never get to spend any time together.”

My sister might have been young, but she was observant. “John’s like a different person when he’s around those church kids. He teases and laughs and jokes with them. He’s so funny. Then, when he’s with you, he never talks. ” Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. She was right, you know.

And, something else was beginning to happen. The first couple of times I didn’t say anything. I just looked away. But, I was sure. Well, maybe not. Well, yes, I was sure…….

While I was laying in bed, I could often see John from the bedroom. I would be day dreaming about the baby — our baby — wishing so much that he would come lay by my side and dream with me. But he never really wanted to go to bed the same time as I did even though he got up religiously at 4:00 a.m. every day which is far earlier than I got up for work. My sister slept on a little fold away cot in the room off to the bedroom that was used as the dining room or “whatever” room. We had a teeny kitchen, so there was an old card table and cot set up in this room which was used as John’s study room and for Ruth’s room while she lived with us. Not an ideal set-up, to say the least!

I thought I saw him quickly tug at her shorts when she walked by to go to the kitchen or bathroom. Pretending I was asleep, I would watch night after night and sure enough — yes, it was true — he was doing that! Or was he? Was I just seeing things that weren’t really happening? Was I imagining everything?

One Saturday while she and I were walking to the deli a few blocks away I got the nerve to ask her. “He’s so weird, Clara. He’s always pulling at my shirt or my shorts. I try to run past him, but he’s always doing it.” And, then she burst into tears.

I decided I’d confront him — the first time I really acted like I had a back bone. That night I was not a happy camper, and I said we needed to talk. It seems so “not real” as I’m writing these words. His response? “Your sister needs to learn how to dress. She wears shorts that are way too short for her, and she wears those tops that have her belly hanging out. Why do you think I never have her come to the youth meetings? Adults have made comments about her. It’s embarrassing. She’s a problem child, and the way she dresses doesn’t help. I’m trying to tell her to dress in a way that won’t make her look like a slut.”

A slut? Yes, he used that word when describing her. I’m hanging my head right now because it stings and hurts so bad to remember. I took to heart what John had said, and believed him. He was right. She didn’t dress right. But those were the only clothes she brought with her. Maybe she was at fault. Maybe he was just trying to tell her the length her shorts and shirt should be. Maybe she flat out did lie to me when she said he was pulling and tugging at her. Maybe I didn’t really see what I thought I saw. Oh, how much the mind plays tricks on you when you want to believe the one you love and trust!

He was my husband, and I believed him. Three weeks later I called my mother and father and said my sister had to go home. She and I have had many, many conversations since throughout the years about his behavior towards her. I witnessed on many other times him pulling at her breasts, talking to her about how “your boobs sure did stick out in that shirt.” And, yes, he often made those comments to her in front of me. Hearing that is dehumanizing. Seeing it with your own eyes is worse. And, being the recipient of those acts is the absolute worst. That is child molestation!!!

If you were to talk to a pedophile right now, you would be told that the little children make advances to them. The children aren’t dressed properly. (We’re talking about children as young as one year old.) They come onto the pedophile making it impossible for the pedophile to resist. Pedophiles do NOT see a child as an innocent little one. They look at them with lust. They look at them with eyes that are vile. They look at them with distorted images and messed up minds. They look at them with one thing in mind — “that child will be mine!”

Let me insert something very important here. Pedophiles like younger children and John was arrested for molesting young children, the oldest being 8. He stated in court that he has always had a fascination with the young female body of small girls. So, why did he also touch, grope, feel, and say crude things to teenage girls? (In the coming weeks, I’ll share stories of how he often pulled down his pants and bared his bottom to friends of my daughters! It makes me sick to say this!) I have no answer for that except he was very involved with adult pornography as well as child pornography as came out during his arrest and conviction. I do believe he also had a fascination with the female body as it was developing in teenage girls, and I believe with everything in me that he committed many more acts of molestation that the ones for which there was evidence.

Why didn’t I do anything, say anything, or put a stop to this behavior when I actually became aware of it with my sister? Why? Because I somehow equated church work with goodness. If John was doing so much work with the elders and church people, then he must be close to being a saint, and it was my duty as his wife to support him, honor him, and to believe him! [Ask me if I believe that now, and I’ll tell you something quite different!] I wanted to badly to believe I had married a good, honest Christian man that he could have done almost anything and I would have stood by him one hundred percent, and he knew it!

Why didn’t my sister do anything? She did! She told me, and I basically called her a liar and then chose to see through tainted eyes. Listen carefully — when someone is abused, manipulated, lied to, and made to feel like a second class person, they will do anything to receive “crumbs of love.” And, that is where both my sister and I were in life — we were happy with crumbs. And, John knew it! Oh, how well he knew it! He had the perfect set-up!

I’ll stop here for now– there was more “odd behavior — odd bathroom behavior” that we can use as a lead-in to next week’s continuation of my story. It was odd behavior, but very telling behavior. I just didn’t know how to identify it, and that’s why I’m educating you.

I’d like to emphasize over and over again how smart pedophiles are. Every move they make is very calculated. Very well thought out. Very well planned. The grooming process — getting people (both children and adults) to love and trust you — is very detailed. I’ve read in numerous publications where pedophiles were interviewed that they would often write out detailed plans for months on end about how they would win the love and support of the child they chose to molest. It could take years of detailed planning and winning over everyone’s trust. Then, the big bang — the big moment arrived — when the molesting could be done right in the house in another room with the parents there. There is no greater thrill for the molester!!!

John is not unique in his planning, prepping, and grooming. He’s one of millions who have molested children, and this is how they began most of the time. You will find that most child molesters know the children they molest. And, unfortunately, adults have been tricked into believing the molester over the child. Just look what happened with me and my sister. I even saw with my own eyes and heard with my own ears, and I still chose not to believe my sister. I believed John — the preacher, the youth pastor, the man of faith.

Warning: If you see an adult who chooses spending time with another person’s children over his own OR if he spends more time showing acts of kindness outside of his own home than in his own home, then you need to open up your eyes real wide! At the very least, this is wrong behavior. At the very worst, there is an ulterior motive going on — quite possibly with the goal of molesting a child for the thrill of getting away with it right under the parents’ noses!

In the next session together, we’ll talk about how John was a beloved youth pastor. We’ll talk about one very strange behavior that was part of John from the very beginning of our marriage clear up until the last day we were together. This one thing makes me cringe now — I find it hard to think about without wanting to vomit.

Red flags were everywhere, but if you don’t know what to look for, you won’t see it! Thanks for sticking with me through the hard stuff. It will get us to a place where we’ll be smarter, wiser, more alert. It will get us to a place where we can pick up on things children tell us and we will know that something is wrong. It will get us educated, and education is empowerment!

Let’s get educated! Let’s learn how to stop these molesters in their tracks! Let’s learn how to back them in a corner and make it so difficult for them that they cannot get to our precious ones — our children — any more!

Love,

Clara

Finding A Healing Place

Tag Archives: pedophiles

Married to a Pedophile: The Missing Wedding Ring

Married to a Pedophile: And Baby Makes Three!!!

Married to a Pedophile: Our First New Year’s Eve

Married to a Pedophile: A Letter from Prison

Married to a Pedophile: Odd Behavior