(Wed. 10/28/20)
Child predators are rarely recognized for what they are. They have an act they perform that make them appear as benevolent citizens of society. They earn their potential victim’s (and usually their family’s) trust with calculated kindness before they make discretely insidious malevolent moves. This is called ‘grooming’ . They build trust so when they strike even the victim doubts what is really happening because they’re so convinced the abuser is ‘such a swell person’. Since the groomer gained the family’s and/or society’s trust, if the victim speaks up it becomes a public debate as to who’s telling the truth. Groomers know their victims will most likely be too ashamed of what happened and too weakened in their sense of self to pursue justice if they’ll also have to take on their family’s doubt and/or society’s wrath. Several years ago I had the distinct displeasure of having to deal with a predatory groomer (we’ll refer to him as B.S.) at a church I loved. He wasn’t trying to sexually abuse me, he was trying to discredit me. He won the battle, but because I am strengthened by a God who always knows the truth, and I know in my heart what the truth is, B.S. did not defeat me.
I’ve always had faith in God to one degree or another but haven’t always gone to church consistently. A few years ago I found a spiritual home I liked well enough to attend most weekends and wanted to get more involved. I also knew I would one day reach out to fellow survivors of child sexually abusive material and other abuses, but wasn’t sure how that was going to happen. There was a woman on the pastoral team (I’ll call her P.A.) who seemed like she’d be a good person to talk to for direction so an appointment was made.
The first time we talked about various topics, including what I had survived and how I hoped to redeem it by reaching out to others survivors. She seemed kind and accepting, told me how I could help her with something she was working on, then she prayed over me. A second appointment was made and when we met that time she was different. P.A. acted like she didn’t trust me, was evasive about answering questions and didn’t mention my helping her with anything. She said she was very busy and probably wouldn’t have time to meet anytime soon. I felt uneasy but couldn’t figure out what went wrong so just decided to accept what she said at face value.
Then the same thing happened with a second pastor P.A. was close to. Initially there wasn’t a problem, but soon he was acting like I was a pariah and wouldn’t answer my questions as to ‘why?’. Then the people who surrounded P.A. and P.J. began treating me just as suspiciously without any explanation. Aside from them the other minsters treated me well and I was making some good friends there.
In an effort to try to find out what I thought I must be doing wrong I started seeing a therapist associated with the church, hoping she would have some insight as to what was going on. Once again, at first she was kind but after several sessions started acting differently. If I sneezed or when it was time to leave as I would rise out of the chair she would leap out of hers and place it between us, acting like her life was in danger. I’ve never attacked anyone and any other therapist I’ve worked with would attest to my nonviolent nature. And even though God and I both knew I was innocent of whatever their accusations were, I finally got so uncomfortable with what was happening that I decided to find another place to worship.
Several years passed when the news broke that one of the leaders of the church who was also head of the counseling center, a.k.a. B.S., was arrested on child sexually abusive material charges. Police had irrefutable proof he making it as well as watching it. The therapists I’ve discussed this with since then have always said the same thing – when P.A. told B.S. my history and how I’d hoped to redeem it, he felt threatened so he went about discrediting me, convincing those he could influence that I was a threat to them. He succeeded. And to this day if I see any of the people B.S. turned against me they still treat me like dirt. How many other people did this ‘swell’ man of God insidiously and maliciously abuse and/or malign without anyone suspecting what he was doing? B.S. was so respected that whenever there was an article in the paper about his trial there would also be quotes from people who claimed to know him well. They would say what a good man of God he is, he just made some poor choices and that he should be forgiven and prayed for. But no one ever mentioned praying for those he abused. B.S. was a therapist of high standing and great respect so he should’ve had a clue what he was doing and how it would effect his victims. If he had any sense of decency don’t you think he would have realized he had a problem and gotten the help he deserved instead of preying upon young girls?
B.S is what a ‘predatory groomer’ looks like.
And yes, I do believe anyone can be forgiven for whatever they did, by God and mortals, and only God can make the final judgement as to whether a person’s heart is for good or evil. But I like how a teacher I had for a class on spirituality said it: “You can forgive someone, but you don’t have to be stupid about it”. I work on forgiving, but that doesn’t mean to ignore or whitewash another’s actions.
Thank you to all the good and true ministers – in spite of there being far more of your ilk, you rarely get the press that the your antitheses do. I hope you know you are appreciated anyway!
On Friday there will be a ‘lighter’ piece of creative writing, then on Monday we’ll go back to Little Pearl’s story. Looking forward to meeting with you again!
This type of poem is called a ‘Cinquain’ and I don’t remember when it was written. As it pertains to what I wrote about above, there will always be people who want to stop us from speaking our truths and obtaining our dreams. So what? Yes, it’s going to hurt, but even if they win their battle, they’ll only win the war if WE give up.
Dream
Realistic illusion
if you follow
belief in your heart.
Freedom.
c. Pearl E. M.
