It was the mid-‘90s and the Internet was still something you had to access with dial-up and a shrink-wrapped CD from AOL.
Any time I’d walk in while he was on the computer he’d immediately turn to face me. ” I could hear the telltale sound of the mouse clicking to minimize a screen. Once he finished, I pretended I wanted to get on Instant Messenger.
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Mom took me to a doctor and he told me I had migraines.
The next year I began to suffer from excruciating stomach pain that left me unable to eat.
This was not the way my father would have written our story.
In the Christian parenting books he authored, we were always the perfect family.
Mom took me to a doctor and he told me I had ulcers. My body turned against me and refused to give me my period.
Every month my Mom would buy more tampons and I’d hide them in the bathroom cabinet with a year’s worth of unopened boxes.
I never noticed how dark his windows were tinted, but now it made sense. Was that something you did when you were meeting a teenager for sex in the alley behind a sporting goods store?
They drove closer, unsure of what would happen next.
I was no longer living in a world where some of us were entitled to wag a finger of judgment. When I was done I logged out of the account, deleted the hacker program and decided to pretend like it had never happened.
I needed to believe the lie and continue being the smiling daughter of a godly man.
In the Christian parenting books my dad wrote, we were always the most perfect devout family.