My Story – Part 1: The Preacher’s Daughter & The Youth Pastor – My Introduction to Sexual Abuse and Pornography

Because this story’s been written before in my book Permission to Speak Freely, I’ve adapted a few of the chapters to use on my blog. If you’re interested in purchasing the book, it’s currently on sale on Amazon for $7.98 and you can pick it up by clicking here.

Or, you can also watch me share the story on LifeToday, which is a great Christian television broadcast. James & Betty Robison were such amazing hosts, and they had someone do my makeup and my hair and make me look presentable and fancy.

 

Anne Marie Miller Pornography Abuse Story

 

*****

Most teenagers believe they’re more mature than they really are. I know I did. So when this youth pastor in his mid-twenties asked me over to see a movie and talk about Jesus, I didn’t think twice about it. In fact, I was flattered that an older guy was interested in me, an all-grown-up sixteen-year-old girl.

And he was a youth pastor. Maybe he could help me rediscover my faith. There was a part of me that missed it since my father left the church.

Now, something I never had growing up was a curfew. My parents trusted me enough not to worry about where I was or who I was with. The two unspoken rules I had to live by were “Don’t get put in Juvie” and “Don’t get pregnant.” As long as they never got a call from the police or the hospital, I was pretty much free to do whatever I wanted.

A basic “to a friend’s house to watch a movie” appeased my parents as I walked out the door. Taking my mom’s car to his apartment, I was more worried about driving in the Dallas traffic than I was about watching a movie with him.

I knocked on the door to his apartment, and he let me in. From the beginning, even as naïve as I was, it was obvious what was on his mind and it wasn’t talking about Jesus. The lights were dimmed, and blankets and pillows were laid out on the floor to make the movie watching more . . . comfortable.

The details of that night aren’t relevant, but it’s safe to say I don’t remember what movie we watched. The one thing I do remember is that as scary as this new experience was, a huge void in my heart had been filled, and for the first time in several months I felt loved and accepted and worthy.

And I felt beautiful.

The youth pastor and I “dated” (and I use that term loosely – it’s what, as a sixteen year old, I perceived our relationship to be) for a couple of months, and then he quietly slipped away. I was upset but decided to move on. The wounds on my heart caused by the pain from uprooting had started to open up again. I felt lonely, and I needed to find someone else to make the pain go away.

I went on a few dates with a couple of guys, but my heart still longed for this youth pastor. I’d given him so much of myself; how could it not be?

After the holidays, the youth pastor called me, and we started our “relationship” again. He had moved to another part of Dallas and had a roommate now, so we’d meet in a park close to his new house. A few more months went by, and I had fallen back in love, head over heels.

Just before I graduated high school while we were out one afternoon, he told me he was getting married. He had proposed to someone he knew from his past and said he could never see me again.

The youth pastor and this other woman had a long-distance relationship the entire time he and I had been with each other. She didn’t know about me.

And from the way I couldn’t catch my breath and started seeing double, I obviously didn’t know about her either.

My heart broke. I was so naive and lonely I actually had believed he loved me.

And he was a pastor. How could he have lied to me?

This experience became another piece of evidence that people who say they’re close to God can’t be trusted. And as far as I was concerned, God couldn’t be trusted either.

There was a sharp pain in my chest where my heart once lived. It hurt so badly my mind would scream at my heart and tell it to stop.

“Will you ever stop hurting? I can’t take it anymore.”

I had to do something to medicate this pain. I had to escape it as if life itself depended on it.

I put the blame for the pain I was experiencing from the “relationship” with this youth pastor on God and began to run from my faith again. God and I were through. He obviously didn’t care about me, so I didn’t care about Him anymore either.

To help numb the pain, and to find a little understanding about all that happened to me as I was spun up in a torpedo of confusion, I turned to the internet.

I know, I know. Porn is a guy’s problem. Girls—especially good, teenage girls—don’t look at porn.

And the last place you would expect to see porn is the living room of a former pastor, right?

(Tomorrow — Part Two: Fighting My Addiction to Porn & Giving the Gift of Going Second)

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2 thoughts on “My Story – Part 1: The Preacher’s Daughter & The Youth Pastor – My Introduction to Sexual Abuse and Pornography

  1. Im realy sorry that u had to go thru that. Having given your heart to someone who is found to not be worthy is painful. Stay strong and move on. I hope you now have found your happiness. He isnt worth you sobbing