An Overview of Absurdity

(By Jackson Douglas)

I’m often hesitant to share my story because it often feels less important than the stories of others. In comparison I was, and am, lucky. But the honest truth is that a small wound unattended can be as dangerous as a major wound that is properly addressed. Many times we are tempted to try to push through the pain and hurt without asking for help.

My own story begins with a young girl leading me away from the other children into another room where she had stayed. A place for us. I remember that I wanted to watch cartoons but she started taking off my clothes and then my mother walked in and stopped us. I was four. Four years old and already I was awake and looking for more. I will not lie to you. My parents were great and my childhood was wonderful. There was no abuse at home, but I still didn’t know how to talk to them about what was already stirring in me.

Then came David. David was the youth pastor at our church and he took a particular personal interest in me and my friends. The four of us were all between twelve and fourteen and he took us out of the Wednesday night service and into a “Bible study” where we talked about sex. It was exciting and we were all curious. I distinctly remember the time when he called me into his office to speak with me privately. Once the door was closed, he asked to look at my genitals to see ‘how I was developing.’ I told him “no” and he accepted it, but later betrayed me and told my mother some of the things that I had been talking about in our group.

David introduced us all to pornography and masturbation during these “Bible studies.” We were less than thirty feet away from our parents in the back of the church, but we were still worlds away. I wasn’t raped or physically fondled so the temptation is to deny that the experience affected me on a deeper level or to convince myself that it is less important or less meaningful. But I struggle to this day to abstain from pornography. Some days I win. Some days I don’t. I see the hurt and shame that it causes my wife and I wonder what type of monster I am that I still keep doing it.

I remember the times that I’ve made her cry and promised that this would be the last time only to disappoint her again days later. I fear for my children and keep an overly vigilant watch lest they fall prey to the same fate that I did. So it has not only affected me deeply but also affected my family as well. David is now dead. He died of AIDS two years ago, but he still haunts me. Don’t cheapen your story because it is not as dramatic or as horrific as another man’s story. Your story has weight because it is your story and it happened to you.