My Preacher’s Kid Ex-Boyfriend

I never saw the truth behind his smiling mask

I have folders on my computer containing logs of old messages. Some are funny, and some are just interesting to read again years later. Each one offers a peek into a past version of myself. This excerpt is from an AOL instant messenger chat from when I was in my early 20's. (I know, I’m revealing my age here!) A friend and I were discussing how a recent phone conversation had ended abruptly. Names have been removed for anonymity.

him (5:01:52 PM): sorry bout that
me (5:01:59 PM): no I’m sorry
him (5:02:26 PM): uh, for what?
me (5:02:26 PM): I had pulled up to the church and [my boyfriend’s] dad was there talking to him
me (5:02:57 PM): and I got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and didn’t hear a word you were saying
him (5:03:17 PM): oh, it’s ok

My boyfriend was a preacher’s kid. As far as any of the adults in my life knew, I was the good girl. All my life, church moms had been telling me, conspiratorially, “I wish my son would date someone like you!”

I was basically a walking stereotype of the sweet, sunny, innocent Christian girl, and because of that, I fully expected my boyfriend’s parents to approve of me. But there was no such thing as good enough for the two of them.