“…December 7th, a date which will live in infamy…”
This line was originally spoken about the attack on Pearl Harbor.
57 years later, December 7th became a day that marked a devastating turn in my own life. It has been 27 years, and while some memories remain vivid, others are blurred.
On this day, 27 years ago, I experienced the final instance of abuse at the hands of an older man in our church. I was 17. He was old enough to be my father, with children my age. December 7th is the anniversary of the worst of what happened, and also the day I spoke up.
In May of 2018, I published a blog sharing my #MeToo story, though I did not identify the person responsible. At the time, I wasn’t sure I ever would. Four years later, a major news story broke about another long-hidden case of abuse from the same church, a teacher of mine, someone I knew. He was one of multiple victims. That week, I reshared my blog along with an unpublished follow-up piece.
**Those two blogs will be linked at the bottom of this post. Please keep in mind they were written many years ago and my perspective on some this has changed since then.
Within days, two people reached out to me, both had been harmed by the same man. Without me naming him, they recognized the patterns and details. I heard their stories. One of them later chose to share publicly. **Her story will also be on this site
Learning there were others harmed by the same man changed everything I believed about my own experience. I was not alone. I wasn’t even the first. I had suspected that, but now I knew it.
As new truths surfaced, so did fresh layers of grief, anger, and betrayal. They also brought a deeper wave of healing. That clarity convinced me it was time to say his name. His identity shouldn’t have been shielded, not then, not now.
The plan was never just to speak his name, but to pair it with letters, a form of healing and a way to address the larger issue of abuse in the church. Looking back, I took on more than any one person could reasonably carry at once. For a season, every attempt to write triggered anxiety attacks. The toll was deeper than I expected, and I stepped back for my own wellbeing.
All of that brings me here.
This will be the first post of a few for now. More will follow. Much of what I share will be in the form of letters written to the different people connected to my story. My hope is that my words can bring clarity, honesty, and healing.
For those who have lived through abuse, inside or outside the church, I want to acknowledge that some posts may be difficult to read. I also pray they might open a door toward healing, as I walk this road myself. The more of us who speak, the more light we shine, the more change becomes possible. Wherever you are in your journey, I hope you feel seen.
And to every person reading: thank you for being here. Thank you for giving your time and attention to this story. My sincere hope is that these posts are another small step toward awareness, truth, and lasting change. Some details may repeat in different letters, as each is written to a different person with a different lens.
Thank you for walking this with me.
BLOG LINKS:
My #MeToo blog written in 2018
My follow up blog published in 2022
sixtyone7 
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