Doug Wilson, Christ Church, CREC, Sex Abuse, Natalie Rose Greenfield, Timeline, Jamin Wight
With Natalie’s permission, I am once again cross-posting her most recent article which gives further clarification on her sex abuse case. Why? Because Pastor Doug Wilson is trying to push his narrative using his public platform which has a larger following than Natalie. What I do here at SSB is give survivors a platform and hopefully social media will even out the voices so that a survivor’s voice is heard and believed.
Here’s the deal. Why are we even listening to Doug Wilson? Why are we listening to his narrative? The court has already convicted Jamin Wight and we know that Natalie is telling the truth, so why is Doug Wilson speaking up now? It is not his story to tell. He mishandled the case and neglected care for Natalie and now Natalie is rightly speaking out so that others will not be afraid to do so.
Take a look at Doug Wilson’s replies on Twitter. On many of his replies, he is responding to Natalie’s case giving short, obscure answers from his perspective and trying to shift the focus off Natalie’s account and place blame on her parents or anything that holds him culpable of protecting and defending this young sex abuse victim. It is so important to note that DOUG WILSON WAS NOT THERE WHEN NATALIE WAS ABUSED! He doesn’t know what went on in her home, the involvement of her parents, the threats and pressure of Jamin Wight.
Notice how Doug Wilson changes the direction of the conversation to something entirely irrelevant.
Here’s an example of a recent exchange with me. Notice the diversion tactics:
Now we move on to Natalie’s timeline. Thank you, once again, Natalie, for allowing me to share your story here. ~ja
(***Trigger warning: sex abuse***)
For The Sake Of Clarity – The Timeline
by Natalie Rose Greenfield
“It was a foolish parent-approved relationship which led to statutory rape, as was shown in the court.” – @douglaswils
This is a recent tweet from Doug Wilson concerning the long-term sexual abuse I experienced as a young teenager. In light of the level of blame that is being placed on my parents, I feel that a timeline of the events might be helpful in offering some clarity for those that were not directly involved in the situation.
Summer 2000: I met Jamin at a local nursing home where a group of church members were singing hymns for the residents. He introduced himself to me. I was thirteen years old. He was 23.
A few weeks later: I sat at a local coffeehouse and Jamin showed up, sat down across the table from me and asked if I wanted to play cards. He flirted heavily and tossed pretzels into my mouth.
Fall 2000: Jamin came to our house for dinner along with a couple of his roommates, who were longtime friends of our family. He played footsie with me under the table. Our whole family thought he was a pretty great guy and began to consider him a genuine family friend.
Winter 2000: Jamin was over for family dinner a second time and during a movie after dinner, when others had left the room for a moment, Jamin moved close to me, touched my cheek with his hand and told me I was beautiful.
Spring 2001: Jamin moved into our mansion on B Street and lived there along with 4-5 other boarders. At some point during this process Jamin expressed an interest in getting to know me. My parents discussed what they should do and ultimately my father told him he could wait around for me until I was older, if he wanted, and strictly forbade any development of a physical or romantic relationship. We were allowed to be friends. Two weeks later Jamin kissed me for the first time.
Spring 2001: Summer/Fall 2002: Jamin began more serious abuse, this included sexual, physical, verbal and emotional abuse. He was wildly jealous of me, he spied on me, he gave me a strict set of rules to follow regarding my behavior, dress, and social life, he forced me to perform oral sex on him on a regular basis, he oiled the hinges of the doors in our home and frequently snuck into my room in the middle of the night, he limited when I was allowed to leave the house and where I was allowed to go (he did this by privately bullying me, as far as anyone else knew the decisions were my own), he demeaned me constantly and convinced me never to tell anyone about what was happening because he said they’d all know I was a slut and no one else would ever love me, he told me I should not go to college or develop any career or interests because I was to be his wife and the mother of his children someday and would have no need for continued education or a career path, he lectured me constantly on my flirtatious, sinful, tempting ways and convinced me I was an abhorrent girl with few redeemable qualities
I was literally a prisoner in my own home. (I should mention that I was behaving like a textbook abuse victim throughout all of this – I was infatuated, obsessed with my abuser, and the single most important thing in my life was to please him.) To maintain the facade Jamin would occasionally approach my parents and humbly ask their forgiveness for something like squeezing my hand to comfort me or patting my shoulder. He’d promise it would never happen again. This helped him to maintain trust with my parents so he could continue living in our home.
Fall 2002: My father began to notice Jamin behaving in a jealous way around me, and caught him spying on me from outside in the bushes during a dinner party one night (he did this often to monitor my interaction with other people). He was asked to move out.
Late Fall 2002: Jamin no longer lived with us but still occasionally stopped by to grab belongings he’d left, and during these brief visits would rendezvous with me in the basement or in a car for sex favors. One time, I stopped him on the front porch and quietly asked him if I was still a virgin because I didn’t know if fisting constituted penetration. He laughed at me, then walked inside. This was one of the last times we ever spoke.
Fall 2002-Spring 2005: The abuse had finally ended and the effects began to set in. I experienced PTSD, nightmares, flashbacks, eating problems, difficulties with school, depression, insomnia, anger issues, stomach ulcers, social anxiety, and severe self loathing and shame. I graduated from high school during this and was attending the University of Idaho, my academic performance suffered, as did any friendships or relationships I had. The quality of my relationship with my parents was very poor as well.
Spring 2005: I told a friend a little about what had happened years earlier . She urged me to go to my parents or to the police and I told her she was crazy. Over the following month she approached me several times and begged me to tell someone else. She asked that I please do it before I turned 18 later that summer. Her words sank in over the weeks and one night I was overwhelmed with the need to say something, I nervously told my parents about the abuse. Knowing the police would be contacted, Jamin would be arrested, and a legal process would ensue, I was terrified but also hopeful that I could begin to find some peace as justice was carried out. The morning after I told my parents about the abuse they reported it to the police and Jamin was arrested on charges of sexual abuse of a child and lewd conduct with a minor.
Fall/Winter 2005: After an incredibly trying Summer of legal proceedings, multiple police reports and intense health problems, I began slowly phasing out of attending Christ Church. The support and resources that I so desperately needed were not offered to me. The silence was deafening and succeeded in magnifying my shame and sadness. I remember sitting at church week after week and longing to feel loved and supported, aching for something or someone to help me soothe the deep sadness and despair I felt, and it never came. Not everyone at church was aware of what had happened to me and I knew that. In reality, probably only a handful of people were aware at this point, but surely a couple of the elder’s wives must have known and if they didn’t they certainly should have so that I could be ministered to. Sadly, it didn’t happen. I didn’t leave the church angry or bitter, I left wounded. This was the church I’d attended for most of my life and leaving was one of the hardest and saddest things I’d ever done. I’ve written about the rest of this here, so there’s really no need to re-hash what’s already been said.
My story is not about my parents. And though some people are trying awfully hard to make it about my parents and not about the criminal and what he got away with and how people stood behind him and trusted him and welcomed him back into their circles while a girl wasted away in sadness and shame, it’s simply not plausible. The attempt to pin this on my parents isn’t just morally wrong, it’s based on twisted information. I may end up saying it a thousand times, but here it is again: I was not in a relationship with Jamin Wight. I was targeted by him, groomed by him, and abused by him for nearly 2 years, but I was not in a relationship with him. A relationship is something that happens between 2 consenting adults, not between a child and a man.
My goal in sharing my story of abuse is not to point out my parent’s naivety or to shame them for any foolishness they exhibited. We don’t need to discuss how close bedrooms were or how many boarders lived in our giant home or how many times my parents urged Jamin to respect me and interrogated him to make sure he was doing so. I know beyond all doubt that my parents loved me dearly and were doing so in the best way that they knew how. They didn’t have all the answers, but they did not wish for me to be hurt.
My story is about the man who hurt me and the church who defended him. It’s about him going on to hurt more innocent people because no one believed I was telling the whole truth. And within my story are parallels to countless other eerily similar stories that haven’t been told because it’s really hard to tell them, but they need to be heard anyhow so I’ll give them a voice.
That’s all this has ever been about. I’m still waiting to be heard.