I had mean Priest drama that occurred to me. A place where I gave so much blood, sweat, and tears. My sin? Admitting I knew I couldn’t have more children.

The man turned into a filthy, bashing, horrid person. Worst three minutes and the drive home I felt worthless and terrible. I went into a depression for six months, whatshisface slept just fine.

Long story short, empathy didn’t matter. The only times the head Father showed “care" was if he heard I prepared to go public. If the one ugly minded Father could do so much harm to a grown woman, who has endured her fair share of abuse-what about all the teens rumored to have confided in a previous Clergy about their sexual identity in our small Suburb?

I was in the newsletters all the time, I breathed in the campus and loved the people. I’d try to assist when head Father came off as a bully to others.

Instead, it was like a divorce out of nowhere. I didn’t want to leave the house. I reasoned and seasoned and reported my case for Empathy to the Bishop.

Ultimately:

  1. I discovered I can’t expect the same empathy I have from another person.
  2. The Boys Club is real. The Clergy cannot speak out on other Clergy, you might live with them again. So if there is a compassionate Father, you still won’t get very far in Clergy having accountability with each other on kindness.
  3. The women were worse. Okay, so the white collars played their games. To the few women I confided to, they made excuses for the Priest. They also said they had been harmed by certain Priests at certain points. Remarkably, when I had these private conversations the Father would call the next day, trying to show “concern" when really, the word was going around that I’d no longer have large tears or shake at the thought of going into the neighborhood. If people asked, I was going to hold my head high and give an appropriate answer according to the person encountered.

It turned out to be a good thing to be pruned from the flock, but the way this was handled put my emotional health in serious jeopardy.

I’ll be here when others hurt, too.

Khara Jackman @spiritualsugar

Written by

Hi, I’m Khara. Author, Soulful, and a Spiritual Geek.

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