I was just fifteen years old when you came into my life. I wanted a place to call my own. I was new to the area and I wasn't fitting in. My one real friend convinced me to try out the youth group of the church our families had just started going to, and I did..

You were the cute youth leader that was also apart of the worship team on Sunday mornings...And you were twenty-five. I started to really like going to youth. I made a few friends at first and I loved finally being apart of something since moving. I finally felt as if I found my "home", but then things started to change. I no longer fit in like I did before. The girls that I thought I was friends with stopped inviting me places, I started sitting alone before our youth service would start. I began to feel more lonely than I did before I started attending youth, and I cried all the time at home. By this point you had became the youth pastor and because you took this role my mom found it fitting to come to you to help. She was worried about me and thought that you could help me fit in with the girls again. That weekend was "Girls and Guys Weekend," and because my mom went to you for help you convinced me that I should go. I went and it was fun. We played games, the girls had a sleepover, and I went home so excited to tell my parents about it. That Sunday, when I got home, you sent me a snap on Snapchat. I thought it was kind of weird that you would contact me like that, but I brushed it off, just appreciating the attention and the help you gave me to become friends with the girls in youth group again. It was innocent...at least it was at first.

Not long after this your snaps were often with you shirtless. I felt uncomfortable, but I really liked the attention you had been giving me, so I didn't want to mess it up. We pretended like it never happened every Sunday and Wednesday when we saw each other at church. And then it started to get worse. It was no longer just shirtless pictures with innocent conversations. The snaps were sexual, saying what you would do to me if I came over, even though your wife was asleep in the next room. You said she was "sick" and so you slept on the couch, and we talked until 1 o'clock in the morning. I liked the attention, but I knew it was wrong. I started telling you that what we were doing was wrong and that it needed to stop. You would, but only for a little while, and then I would get a text or a snapchat. I would entertain you for a bit, and then tell you again to stop. It was a constant cycle. I didn't know what to do.

Eventually I told my one friend that convinced me to go to youth in the first place. We were still close and I needed someone to tell me what I needed to do. You just happened to be sending me snaps while I was telling her, so she saw, first-hand, what I was dealing with. She understood why I hadn't told anyone, it wasn't the easiest situation to del with, but she said she would help me come clean. She would have my back when things got rough...But she left the state for about a month that summer, and without her I lost my strength to do something about what was happening. I got you to stop, and this time the gap between contact was longer. I thought I was in the clear. I thought it was over.

Then, on the day that my friend got back to town, I got a notification from Snapchat. It showed a familiar username, but I couldn't remember from where, and then it hit me. It was the same username as the person that created a fake profile on Kik Messenger to talk to me a few months before. The same username that created a full backstory on how he found me. The same username that tried to get me to sext with them. I found out the username was a fake that same day, but I never figured out who it was...until I opened that snap that day, months later. It was you. It was your face with no words and the same username...And then all the emotions flooded in at once. You created a fake alias to talk sexually to me months before you ever contacted me yourself. You didn't have the confidence to talk to me as yourself until you found a weakness in me, a weakness that you took advantage of. You helped me enough to get me to my feet to then knock me back down again. You baptized me, then later turned me away from the church within a month. I called my friend. We chose to tell your wife that night.

I was terrified.

I waited until the end of the service, and watched as many people left the church. My dad was coming to get me soon, but I knew I had to tell her that night. My friend helped me to confront her, but your wife insisted that it was just her and I that talked. I didn't want to be the bad guy. I didn't want to hurt her. I saw the look in her eyes go from empathetic to confusion to anger. I had to do that. I had to be the one to mess everything up...but it wasn't me was it? I just convinced myself that I was...

The next weeks after that was a blur. My small group leader confronted me really late that first night and told me I had to wake my parents up to tell them. I had never been so scared in my life. My heart had never beat so fast as I told my dad what happened, and again as I had to tell my mom after he woke her up, too. In that moment I knew that my life had changed forever.

I stopped going to church shortly after, and the small group leader that said she would always be there for me went back to being your friend. I had never been so alone. I started not trusting the men around me, pretty much anyone older than me, and it didn't matter if they were strangers or close family friends. I started to have panic attacks and I cried myself to sleep all the time. I blamed myself for what happened, but I was just a girl. You were the adult. You were the youth pastor. You shouldn't have ever sent that first snap. You should have known how wrong that was. Instead you exploited my weaknesses and took advantage of me. You never had to pay for what you did. You lost your job, but the church accepted you back with open arms. You and your wife went to counseling, but you're still together to this day. You started singing again with the worship band. The church kept everything quiet. They advised me not to tell anyone. I didn't. So, you got away scotch-free, and I was left with a lifetime of hurt and anxiety of men that crossed my path. I forgave myself after a couple years, but I haven't forgiven you yet. Maybe this will help as a piece of closure. You still have ways of sneaking back into my life, even if it isn't intentional. I just pray that you learned a lesson that day. I pray that you don't mess with anyone else's lives like you did mine.