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The headline is colorful, chilling, and woefully short sighted about the issues of incest, pregnancy, and consent. I think it goes without much emphasis how quickly it hit all the wrong buttons that put me back to my youth being molested by my father. It made me immediately reflect on the moment I said yes when he asked if he could pretend I was my mother. That headline made me stand up and pace the room for a good three minutes, reminding myself how often incest happens: voluntarily - but with limited understanding of what it all means until the damage is done. Virgini
Once again the poster children of the Quiverfull movement are in the spotlight, this time because of admitted molestation of minors. It should be noted, Josh Duggar molested fellow underage family members and possibly church members, while technically a minor himself. Granted, the victims were well under the age of consent. They were also sleeping. But, to make reparations for his crimes that repeatedly occurred over the course of at least 3 years, he helped build a house, received further guidance of sorts from a “role mode”, and promised he would never, ever, ever, ever, ever, do it again.
Right now, I am pounding these keys. Pounding them hard. Pounding them like my heart would pound in the wee hours of morning as a child. Pounding these lettered plastic keys like they are bones being turned to dust. And this pounding will not yield much relief or vengeful satisfaction because, as Chaucer put it so simply,"Forbid us something, and that thing we desire." Still, I am slamming away at my Logitech K260 Model keyboard with heated thought. Each slam of the space bar is my mind willing its force towards that which I despise so much for the turmoil and pain I will never
**This is a reblog since I have some nosey relatives following me around on the net. Might as well just give it all out there, right?** I have been on a journey of disbelief in religion for my entire life. Over the last six or seven years, I finally reached that final destination of atheism and am confident in who I am and what this means in my life. Getting to that point, has been one hell of a fight of control over my life. Only child, born in the late 70s to a Pentecostal family, I was indoctrinated early on in life. My earliest memories are not without this church. This place of wo