Me Too

August 26, 2018.

There’s different versions out there for sure.  There are added opinions and judgements. There’s a different side that’s filled with lies. But it’s time that the truth is shared.

This is my story.

My worship pastor had been overseeing me for about 5 years now; however, the past year our dynamic stepped into something deeper than simply a mentor/mentee relationship.  He became like my dad. I was very close to his wife as well. Sometimes she was my closest friend, sometimes she was like an older sister, and sometimes she was motherly. I loved their children as my own siblings and even cared for the youngest as if she were my own. Everything felt like family. He had made himself crystal clear that he wanted to step into a father’s space in my life because of the fact that my dad wasn’t very involved in my life after my parent’s divorce.  I still have some hurt and insecurities rooted from my relationship with my dad that I am still processing through, and so my pastor said that he wanted to show me what it looked like to be treasured and loved by a father. He expressed his “purest” intentions, and I so willingly trusted him.

It happened on August 26th, the last night of a weekend I was babysitting his children.  His wife was out of town and he was supposed to have studio sessions in the middle of the night so I was asked to stay with the kids.  No problem. Everything seemed fine and normal until he never went to his studio sessions so he was home alone with me and the kids. It was a Sunday night and I was returning to their house to watch the kids one last night. I will never forget the feeling I had in my stomach and in my chest that made me feel so anxious.  I felt like something bad was going to happen, but I persistently shut down every thought and feeling I had, trying to convince myself that I was just crazy.  It wasn’t long before I realized I wasn’t.

I won’t go into details of it all because it’s honestly too dark to share. But on that night, I was manipulated, harassed, and sexually assaulted. Was I raped? No. So don’t let your minds wander there. I’ll end that rumor now. Was I sexually violated against my will? Most definitely. 

I was frozen with fear. Terrified to say the least. I was confused with where I went wrong. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just my pastor violating me but someone who I considered like my dad. After about a minute, I broke from my paralysis. With tears streaming down my face, I used my feet to kick him off of me as he attempted to take off my pants. I began to yell at him asking what the actual hell was he thinking. 

He gave me the prettiest words he could come up with in the moment.

“I’m so sorry, I dropped the ball.”

“I’m so sorry. I lost control.”

“I’m so sorry. If it helps, I did this from a place of love.”

I couldn’t bear to hear him say sorry again because each apology fell flat on the ground. They meant nothing to me, they were meaningless. All I could think was how drastic my life was about to change.

I thought about his wife and who she is to me. I thought about the kids. I thought about our community. I thought about my relationship. I thought about my family. I thought about every ministry he was apart of. I thought about every person that he prophesied over. I thought about every influential person he knew. And all I could come up with was there was no hope for me. There was no way little miss 22 year old Haylee with her “daddy issues” was going to be believed over a man of his character. And in that moment, I was still trying to muster up what had just even happened. So all I said was, “What now?”

He looked at me in a way that makes me cringe now. And then he began to tell me why I couldn’t tell his wife because of a pact that they made when they got married about not informing each other if they ever did something adulterous. I was told to think about all of the people it would affect if I told anyone. I remember his next words exactly. “It would crush an entire kingdom of people. It’s not worth it. This is something that we will take to the grave.” And that’s all it took to convince me that he was right. I tried to leave that night and was told I couldn’t because I was too emotional and that it was late and he didn’t want me out on the road, but of course I didn’t care about any of that. Then he told me that I couldn’t leave because I was asked to be there.  At that point, I realized I didn’t really know who I was dealing with anymore so I was scared and stuck it out through the night. It all felt like someone’s worst unknown nightmare.

After that night, I tried to hold myself together and continue with everything as if nothing had happened. I knew that if I distanced myself people would notice and it would draw attention. At that point, that was the last thing I wanted because I didn’t even know how to identify what happened that night. The memory of the violation that night would hit me while we would lead worship and it would make me feel sick to my stomach.  I would tell myself it was just a dream and pushed it to the back of my mind.  This part doesn’t make sense to most people, and I don't blame them because it’s hard for me to comprehend my own reaction whenever I think back to it. But all I can say is that I felt that carrying this secret would be worth it if it prevented everyone else’s lives from being wrecked.

I didn’t say anything to anyone until a month later. It wasn’t until the last two weeks of that month while I was traveling and away from the chaos that I began to see things a bit more clearly.  I realized that it wasn’t just a mistake he made and that something was very wrong. I became aware of the manipulation he used against me and the jealousy that he was experiencing.  It was my last night in Dallas when I finally broke. I was talking with God and said, “I’m ready for whatever is next, God. Just tell me what to do and tell me where to go. I’m ready.” And I so clearly heard him say, “Okay. First step is we take care of this because this is not for you to carry.”

I was so scared and unsure of what this entire process would look like. And I knew that I would crawl back in fear once I got back to California so I immediately acted and exposed the truth.  The amount of trust, love, support, and comfort I received from my loved ones and pastors actually blew my mind. I expected to have to defend and explain myself.  But instead the minute I let go of the secret, I felt carried and protected. And for that, I will never be able to express my heart’s gratitude. 

The rest of the story is messy and personal. First, he chose the path of denial. However, I have hard evidence so that didn’t last long. Now, he’s chosen to narrate his own version blaming alcohol. But I believe it’s important that you all know what happened. Not because of any malice or hatred that I have against him and not because I am starting a fight. But because the truth needs to be brought to the light.  I am not fighting against him, I am fighting against the spirit of deception.  I am fighting against the spirit of sexual perversion. 

The truth is I was sexually assaulted. And I was not the first. There was another victim. Therefore, this wasn’t a mistake.

I choose to write to you today because I know that many people have experienced something similar to this. I need you to hear me when I say that you are NOT alone. You are NOT crazy. And you did NOTHING to deserve it. I choose to write to you today because I say enough is enough. These type of actions should not be justified. It should not be hidden or swept under the rug. It needs to be acknowledged to actually be taken care of. I will not be silenced and sit while others are endangered by lies.  Here is my story and here is the truth.