My Story

If someone were to ask me if I’d ever picture my life to be how it is now, I would have said no. My life has been filled with ups and downs yet, experiences that has shaped who I am today. I was raised in a Seventh-day Adventist home and I grew up with the beautiful blessing of being able to learn about God in the home from the beginning. To be able to be in a family that was striving to live a Godly life through our great Example, Jesus Christ. My parents understood the foundation of having a Christian education to be able to build upon the foundation of Christianity, which is why I only attended Adventist schools prior to college. I enjoyed school overall up until high school. I had friends, nice teachers, and was fun. I looked forward to going to school. Unfortunately, the school which I was currently attending, decided to make some changes. Instead of teaching students up until 12th grade, they stopped teaching at the 9th grade, and I had no choice but to attend a different school for my remaining high school years.

I often have wondered what my life would’ve been like if I remained at the academy or went to a different Adventist school. I was also considering attending a public school after I was told my school would no longer teach high school. I even applied and was accepted. However, I decided to attend another Adventist academy in the area. One day, I went to the school for a tour and applied. I actually had a couple friends there as well and knew one of the teacher’s husband, who was a pastor. I started to think to myself that the school wouldn’t be so bad. I never heard anything negative about the school so it’s not like I figured it would be a negative experience. I just preferred a more diverse population in terms of ethnicity. It was a very small school and only grew smaller as I advanced to my senior year. The academy taught Kindergarten to 12th grade.

It is normal for students to be nervous when attending a new school and I was no different. The morning of my first day of school arrived and I put on my uniform and went to attend my first day at my new school as a 10th grader. I walk in through the double, glass doors, nervous and not knowing what to expect. I learn who my homeroom teacher is and then walk down the hall to sit in class until the bell rang. I was the first student in my homeroom class to arrive and my homeroom teacher and I was in the class just making small talk. All of the teachers at the academy were Seventh-day Adventist so I felt safe at the school. More students started coming in the classroom and we would introduce ourselves to each other. I was nervous because it was all so new but my classmates were nice. The teachers were nice. It was a good day, didn’t feel uncomfortable, other than one statement that was made to me that morning, but we’ll get to that part later.

Days started to go by, weeks went by, and as more time started progressing, something didn’t feel right. I started to feel more uncomfortable but was battling with the thought of me possibly just reading too deep into things. I would ignore my feelings and think, ‘they are a Christian, Adventist…this couldn’t possibly be real’, or ‘they just care’, or ‘trying to help’. My family and I were struggling financially during this time and were also living with a church family who was ever so gracious. I am so grateful for that family helping my family in the way in which they did and providing us with a place to live when we needed help. Many people believe in the church that Adventists are excluded from abuse, from committing crimes. However, I have realized firsthand that that is not the case. Abuse can be perpetrated by anyone, regardless of their religion, career, ethnicity, or age. Regardless of if they are viewed as person with a heart of gold or if they have a family. My dad was also away during that time, my family was struggling financially, and living in someone else’s home; I was the ‘perfect’ target.

The statement that made me feel uncomfortable was what my teacher/assistant principal said to me when he and I were making small talk that morning in the classroom. It was my first day of school and he asked me if I have ever taken gymnastics. I was like, “yeah, why?” He said, “…because you have a body of a gymnast.” That was very uncomfortable. I was wondering why is he looking at my body like that to even notice and also for him to even make that comment. He is twice twice my age and had a family. I didn’t think that was appropriate. Nevertheless, I was like I don’t know him and maybe he’s just a straightforward type of person in general, plus he’s Adventist. I’m just reading too deep into it.” I ignored it and put it to the back of my mind. I was not taught growing up, well that I can remember, about child predators or sexual abuse. Also, I never heard about any abuse taking place in the Adventist church either. I did not even think that as time started to go by, that it was just the grooming process. As time started to go by, my teacher would see a need and fill it, in order to be able to get closer to me and build trust. Unfortunately, I trusted him as time went by but he hurt me greatly. I never imagined he would hurt me but my trust for him broke.

I became close with his family and he even became my god-father later on as well. He viewed me as his daughter and I began to see him also as a dad. His children called me their sister. I love those kids dearly and they will always have a special place in my heart. I always told them I would be there for them and I meant it. If they ever need me, I will be there for them. When I decided to speak out, it was not just for myself; it was for them. I do not know if they have ever suffered abuse from their father but I knew I had to take a stand for them, even though I knew I would no longer see them again. I also spoke out for all the individuals who are suffering with abuse silently. In pain, ready to give up, as tough as it was, I wanted to be able to be a voice for them. If I am not able to use my experience to empower, educate, and empower others who feel they do not have a voice, for me it would have been a waste.

During high school, I was consistently either molested or raped by my teacher/assistant principal. It began gradually but the foundation was ultimately built by trust. My family trusted him and was accepted as he was viewed as a family person, he was in the church for years, involved in Pathfinders and Adventurers, and other church programs. My family knew his family and the families felt comfortable. My abuser didn’t want to get caught and would do whatever he could do, to prevent my family and his family from realizing the truth. I never wanted to be with him and never wanted the abuse. It was traumatic. However, he had power. I was a minor, his student, and his victim. I always knew he would deny it if people found out and that is what he told me. He actually told me he would deny it if I ever told.

There are numerous reasons why I did not speak out initially and one main reason is because I did not want to add additional stress to my family, when we were already going through a lot on a daily basis. I truly believed my life, or my family’s lives, would be in if I spoke out and so I decided to remain silent. He would lie to get his way to be alone with me and would even have me lie as well. I had to figure out a plan to get away but I just didn’t have one. He also told me he’d go to jail and I truly didn’t want that to happen. My mindset was altered drastically and there was an emotional bond that was developed between my abuser and I, which kept me silent for years. It was all part of the grooming process and that was his plan. His plan worked, well for a while. He never wanted me to speak out because he knew it was against the law and because he could go to jail. I kept silent my entire time during high school and even some of my college years.

High school was very difficult. It was very emotional because of the abuse and many times during high school, I just wanted to die. I would intentionally try to starve myself at times, would get very depressed, contemplate suicide, because it all was too much and I didn’t know what to do or how to escape. I would have many days of going to school in the morning and seeing my abuser in front of the room teaching the class or at his desk grading papers, and knowing he just raped me the previous day. I was so confused and couldn’t believe what was happening. My years of school, all felt like a nightmare, like a scary movie, or someone else’s life. I never imagined this to be my future. I was scared of him and I knew and he knew, he had the power. Many people knew who he was and even different universities he had numerous connections. I often wonder at times if he would just give me good grades because I actually deserved them or if it was his way to keep me silent. I don’t know. I came to a breaking point and I was desperate to talk to someone and tell this dark secret which could potentially land someone behind bars, or else I was going to kill myself.

I finally made the decision to speak out a few years later in hope to be able to get some counseling. I was emotionally distraught and I wanted to be free. My initial reason for speaking out was only because I needed counseling and didn’t know what steps to take. I also was not aware that as soon as I expressed being abused as a minor by my teacher/assistant principal, that the individual was a mandatory reporter by law and had to report the abuse. I was naïve. As soon as I was told they had to report it, I regretted speaking out immediately. My heart stopped. I was terrified regarding the actions my abuser would take and what would come about in terms of the law. All of my fears of what I imagined would happen by me speaking out, in regards to my personal life mentally and emotionally took place. People started hearing different things and rumors got around. My depression only increased as it became more public.

I hated myself and blamed myself for what took place. I internalized people’s opinions of me and felt like I let my abuser down. At this point, I still didn’t really think it was abuse. He would tell me he loved me, would always be here for me, said he was in love with me, that he wanted to marry me when I got older; I just did not connect the dots soon enough that it was all part of the master plan. I asked him before, “since you view me as your daughter and would even tell people I’m your daughter, does this mean you’ll abuse your biological daughter as well?” I never got an answer. There were moments I knew I was being abused but I couldn’t actually say I was a victim of sexual abuse. The manipulation and grooming was strong. He trusted me and I felt like I betrayed him. I later realized, that I had Stockholm syndrome which is why I felt that emotional attachment with him even though he abused me. It’s like a woman for example is being beaten by her husband, but still chooses to stay with her husband because even though it is apparent he is abusing her, the psychological ties are so strong that it overpowers and blinds the spouse of the actual truth about the reality of the abuse.

During the process of speaking out, I was receiving counseling. At that point in my life it honestly didn’t help. I was in such a dark place, that all I knew and believed was that my life will never be the same, it’s all my fault, I’m getting someone in trouble, and that giving up sounded like a good plan. I did officially report the abuse but none of it was easy. I did not want to speak out for any reason initially other than to receive counsel. I only wanted direction on how to move forward due to my severe depression. I became very suicidal and I reached to a point where I didn’t care if I lived or died. It felt like there was nothing certain in my life at that point. My grades was dropping drastically because I was unable to focus in school because of the abuse that took place, trying to process all that took place, and also because the law was now involved. Everything felt like it was happening so fast now when I look back and some areas it did, but in some areas it took so long during that time. Nothing was certain and I felt out of control with all that was taking place. I only blamed myself more as time started to go by and I needed to punish myself. I would try to starve myself and I would cut myself. I felt like I needed to inflict pain to punish myself for the abuse that took place and the law being involved. However, every time I would cut myself, the pain wasn’t strong enough and only needed something stronger. I needed another plan and accepted suicide.

I still remember this evening like it was yesterday. I went to my therapy session and returned back to my dorm room. My roommate was actually gone for a few days and I remember thinking it was perfect, to be able to accomplish my plan. It was at night, and only the light near the sink in my dorm room was on. I took out a bottle of pills and began taking them. In order to overdose and not wake up the next morning. I did not truly want to die. I wanted to live. It was a very dark moment and I could hear the temptations of the devil telling me to cut my wrists, take more pills, to kill myself and I started crying with the enormity of weight on my back. The pain throughout high school and now going through it all again but in a public manner, it was heavy. I did not have any peace. Constant headaches and still trying to make everything seem as normal as possible with my friends at school. I didn’t tell them immediately. I didn’t want people to treat me differently. In the midst of all of the darkness I was experiencing, there was a ray of light encouraging me to pray. To trust in God, even though I do not know the outcome. To be patient and wait upon Him. I went to my knees and prayed with water flowing down my eyes and I told God that if He has a plan for me through this abuse, to help others suffering, to have me wake up the next morning. To help me to overcome this to be able to turn this trial into a testimony.

I woke up the next morning. I thanked God and started to listen to Christian music and read the Bible, to help me to keep my mind fixed on God. I still struggled with self-harm but I was grateful and hopeful that God had a plan for me through this and that He would help me. Doubts still came but I told God that if I didn’t see some sort of sign that He hears my prayers by the end of the week, then I would think of another plan and I knew it wasn’t going to be a positive one. By the end of the week I did see a sign and I had hope to know God was hearing my prayers. I had no idea how, but as years started to go by after, I have realized that He was answering all of my prayers. I have struggled with self-harm and even contemplating suicide since I spoke out, but I can tell when those moments are coming and I guard my mind so the devil will not gain the victory. I have received therapy on and off over the years and it has been very beneficial for me over the years as well. I have been diagnosed with Stockholm syndrome, PTSD, and depression but that doesn’t mean that much to me honestly. It doesn’t define me. God knows my name and He knows my potential. God truly does have my back.

A diagnosis does not define who I am. I have lost friends due to this situation in my life. I have accepted that and I am loved by God and He has my best interest at heart. That is all that matters. I did not have friends during this experience to help or offer support. I have shared with friends at times or people would talk to me about the abuse and journey over the years and I have had people tell me that they did not support me or believe me. That would hurt but I accepted it. It all truly led me to see that I can only fully depend on God. After I spoke out, that is when I actually began processing everything. Took a few years but I am more healed today than I was years ago and all glory goes to God for that.

One thing I learned from this experience, is that regardless of someone’s denomination, they can still commit crimes. They can still sin. It does not matter how long someone has been in the church or how influential they may be. They are still capable of committing the most grievous acts. It was very difficult to deal with and I knew the only person that could truly help me get through this and the only one that truly understands, was going to the one who is responsible for me being alive and not committing suicide. I sought God for healing. He is my foundation. I cannot go to others hoping and wishing they will understand and get upset if they say something that just makes it worse. I go to God and when I need too, I will talk to my therapist. For a while I stopped going to church, because I was mad at God for allowing this abuse happen to me. However, I later realized that He allowed it to happen to me because He knew I would get through it and be able to use my story to help others of who are going through similar situations. He will not give me more than I can handle if I trust in Him and have faith. I must stand for what I believe in, even if it means standing alone.

I have returned back to the church and I have a burden to share my story to help others. I see it as my responsibility. There are so many boys, girls, men, and women suffering in silence at the hands of abuse. I was not seeking to speak out initially but I am glad I did. I followed through with it for my god-siblings, others, the educational system, and other victims all over the world who are suffering. Many times in the church, abuse is hidden. It is a topic which is not spoken about and many victims do not want to speak out because of fear and the reality of how they will be treated. I understand why victims do speak out and I understand why victims do not. That was my dilemma for years. However, the Bible says, “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7. I no longer wanted to be afraid. I wanted to be free. I want to empower victims to speak out against their abuser. I have a burden to provide education and support for victims of abuse and to share how God is truly the Master Healer. I have tried to remove that burden and passion, but I cannot. It is my responsibility. If you were to ask me if I forgive my abuser, my answer would be yes. It took me a while to get to that point but I do forgive him. My life has completely changed from this experience but it has shaped who I am today. I am grateful to God for all of what He has done for me. He has truly saved my life.

The Hope of Survivors (THOS) has been my constant source of support during pivotal times in my road to recovery from the abuse. They were the ones who I felt comfortable with and could understand my situation. I felt comfortable with them because I didn’t feel like they would have judgement but instead, encouraged, and supported me on my journey of healing. I knew for years that I wanted to help and be an advocate for victims of abuse and I immediately thought of THOS. I desired to be able to use my voice and offer the same support unto others, from which I was able to receive from The Hope of Survivors.

If you are a victim of abuse or know someone who is being abused, please speak out. As hard as it is to speak out, you must or else the abuse will continue. The abuse that is taking place in schools, churches, homes, sports, and etc. needs to be exposed. Stand for what you believe in, even if you stand alone. With God you will be able to stand.

Author: Raquel Mallett

If you are a survivor of clergy sexual abuse, we would love to hear your story and possibly make it available on this web site for others to read and renew their hope. You can use a pseudonym if you choose and rest assured that all personal information will be kept private and strictly confidential. Please contact us.

Please note We do not necessarily agree with or endorse all the information contained in the survivor’s stories. We do, however, feel they have some valuable information that could be useful to you in your recovery. It helps to know you’re not alone, that others have shared your pain and have healed, by the grace of God, in their own time and way.