From birth, I was raised in a fundamentalist baptist 'church'. The building itself sits on land that was my great grandparents' farm. Their past home is still its parsonage.
From the moment I was born, fundamentalism and the church were a large part of my life. Except for illness, I don't remember a Sunday not being there. Awana on Wednesday nights, various meetings and events on Saturdays and VBS in the summer was my way of life.
On the outside we were a happy, good Christian family. My family was very well known in the church, making up more than half of the congregation. They were always social and wearing a smile; functioning from members of the choir to ushers and deacons. It was a privilege to be of the Rogers blood line.
Behind closed doors, however, life was very different. My parents married because they were expecting me. I am the oldest of 4 natural siblings and was relied on to help maintain the stability of the family. I was often punished for my younger siblings 'sins' because if I'd been behaving properly, they would have been positively influenced. Spare the rod, spoil the child was the way of life. Often times, as part of our punishment, we were disrobed in the living room of our house and then 'spanked'. My parents had been trained that to raise 'godly children' our wills must be broken so we could learn to become Christ like.
Because my parents were required to marry because they conceived me out of wedlock, their marriage was rocky, and by the time I was 10, they had separated. My mother was having an affair with our next door neighbor which allowed my father to "Biblically" divorce her without shaming his name. She left the church.
My father took his rage out in me by sexually abusing me after he and my mother separated. I slept in his room, listened to him pray... thanking God for keeping us safe and asking forgiveness for all sins committed throughout the day. I'd usually fall asleep while he was droning on and reawaken to his touch. He would tell me not to be afraid. He was able to get me to keep the secret by reminding me that Ephesians commanded me to obey my parents if I wanted to be right with God. This continued until he became engaged to his current wife.
Shortly after his marriage, he moved out of state leaving me behind to be taken in by my maternal grandmother and her husband. I continued attending Grace Baptist Church and tried to "forgive and forget", as I was taught it was the only way I could be forgiven for my sins. When I finally disclosed the sexual abuse to the youth pastor of my church, his response was "I can't believe your father could do such things. But if it's true, read the Psalms and you'll be fine". No phone calls to police or prosecutors, no phone calls to my mother or grandmother.
I had also told a friend from my school what had happened, and she informed the school we attended. Thank God it was a public school! They took the proper action and informed authorities and my mother. We went to court, so my mother could get custody the siblings my father had taken when he moved, and I was put on the stand to testify to what my father had done. After being called everything from a liar to dreaming it by my father's attorney, the court awarded my mother sole custody. When asked by her lawyer how she'd like to go about filing charges against my father for the sexual abuse, she said "I'm not going to, I don't believe her". Then she turned to me and said she never wanted to hear about it again. To this day, she never has.
Shortly after court, I was sexually assaulted by another member of my church. This time, I kept my mouth shut. They didn't want to know before, I thought, why would they care now. I was 14 at the time. I kept that secret till my mid 20's.
Due to my forced silence, I experienced sexual abuse by 5 different people by the time I was 16, physically assaulted twice and raped as an adult.
I also experienced the horror and shame of being LGTB in a fundamentalist world. My very existence was despicable to God because the desires in me were an abomination. I couldn't understand how the God who created me could have made me like this, condemning me to hell from birth.
At the age of 41, I am finally able to share my childhood experiences. Last spring I saw the 20/20 episode in which Tina Anderson, Jocelyn Zicterman and Rachel Griffith shared their stories. Since that time, I've been working diligently at putting off all I has taught in my years of fundamentalism and learning for myself what I believe. I have been rejected by family, friends and church members because I am gay, but am finding a freedom in Christ I never believed possible. I have a long way to go, but I'm finally happy.
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