God and Men, Part 1

This is where things will get a little confusing.  It was the 80’s, and there were three names that were very popular for boys my age: David, Scott, and Mike/Michael.

By the time Scott and I broke up, my mom had married Mike, the man we’d been living with.   Since he and my mom are still married, I now refer to this man as my dad, and I refer to my mom’s first husband as Chuck.

After Scott and I broke up, a friend invited me to go to church with her.  I’d always loved going to church, so I jumped at the chance.  We went to church on Sunday, and she introduced me to the youth pastor, whose name was Mike.  (I told you these names would get confusing).  Mike called me the next evening and asked me if I’d like to come to youth group on Tuesday night.  Anything to get me out of the house, so I said yes!

Mike was married to Jill, and Mike and Jill were exactly the kind of people I needed in my life at the time.  They loved me and recognized what my home life was like, so they made every effort to get me out of the house.  They were my ride everywhere I needed to go.  I adored them.

Adoring them, as you may have come to know about me, meant that I had to prove to them what a good girl I was.  Theirs was what most people would call a fundamentalist church.  So proving that I was a good girl meant subscribing to all of their beliefs.  That meant believing that the Bible was absolute literal fact.  I tried to believe that, but I struggled.

There had been a flood that year, and though my house was not damaged by floodwaters, our whole community had been evacuated for several weeks.  

I decided that it was time for a makeover before I went back to school, I got a wild perm, and became what was referred to as “A rocker Chick.  I had two best friends at the time, Tammy and Gayle.  Tammy went to continuation school.  She ran away from home every chance she got, and she’d hide out at her boyfriend, Scott’s house.  This was not the same Scott that had been my boyfriend, nor the one who lived near Grandma Dollar.  Scott lived near my house, so Tammy came over to visit often.

Gayle and I sat together in World Studies, and every day, this cute boy would walk by and make eye contact with me and wave.  He was tall and had long blond hair.  Gayle and I would giggle as he walked past.  His name was Michael.

Michael had a friend named Cletus, and one day Cletus came over to me and asked me if I’d like to be Michael’s girlfriend.  I said I would, and gave Cletus my phone number to give to Michael.

That night, Michael called.  We made small talk, and then my mom told me it was time to get off the phone.   Michael told me he loved me.  My heart sank.  How could he possibly love me already?  But I felt obligated to say it back, so I did.

I invited Michael to go to church with me.  He did, and Mike and Jill began to pick him up for Church on Sundays and youth group on Tuesdays.   Before long, Michael and I were leaders in the youth group.  I loved being in a leadership position, but I also had a lot of guilt.

Michael was in a band.  I would often go to his house on weekends to watch his band play.  He was very aggressive with his affection, and he pushed my boundaries harder and harder every time.  It started, as it always did, with my breasts.  He would get me alone and push my shirt up and begin kissing my breasts.  I would push him away and he would stop for a moment and then start again.  I stopped him and told him I wasn’t ready for this and he cried.  That melted my heart.  At least he cared enough to feel bad for pushing me.

Yeah, right.

We never had intercourse, but we certainly did as much as one can while still considering oneself a virgin.  I would try to stop him, but it felt good in the moment.  I was so overwhelmed with guilt.  I was supposed to be setting an example at church.  I began to resent him, and I had known from our first kiss that I didn’t have the kinds of feelings for him that I’d had for Scott.

In fact, I’d developed a huge crush on one of the guys in his band.  His name was Dave, and he’d often pick me up on his way over to Michael’s for band practice.  He was a little older and he just made me giddy.

Michael and I were together for a year and a half.  We broke up in my junior year because I was just tired of him.  He was supposed to ride the bus home, but he’d purposely miss the bus so he could come home with me.  He infiltrated every moment of my life and I just resented him, now.  I wanted my life back.

He immediately got together with Dave’s younger sister.  All of the “Christian” stuff went out the window, and he became a partier, and it wasn’t any of my business, but part of being a part of that kind of religion is the patronizing judgment with which everyone is viewed.

You look down your nose at people, but you act like you’re worried for their souls.  I was horrible about that.  I judged everyone; mostly because I felt like I was a fraud.  I didn’t believe the stuff they told me I was supposed to believe, so I thought that by comparing myself to people who were having sex or doing drugs or drinking, I’d be good enough to get into heaven despite my doubts.