My Father the Boogie Man

This Post is being reposted from my former blog Daughter of a Perpetrator.  It was originally posted on Wednesday, December 5, 2012.

I just got off the phone with my younger sister.  My niece has autism.  My sister is a very attentive and caring mother.  Her concern for her daughter has turned her into quite the advocate.  My sister runs a nonprofit organization for special needs people and that is just one of her many forms advocacy.  I love listening to my sister and hearing all she does to help her daughter and the autism community at large.  Really honestly I love talking to her about it.
But when I got off the phone today I gave a sigh.  Part of me wants to be an advocate for LDS victims of sex crimes.  But who can be an advocate against boogie men, when your own father is a boogie man.  When he is still alive.  When he has never served any jail time, or even seen a judge.  When he still lives a seemingly normal and respected life.  If I start to advocate people will tell me I just want to knock a good man off of his pedestal.  Well they would be partly right. I would love to knock down the boogie man.  I would love to take away the power he feels when he is a respected member of the community, that is his evil source of power.
This is why daughter holds the place of my  name and I hide behind that term.  If I were to start talking about boogie men, people may temporarily perk up their ears.  But then they would turn and look at my father, and think something like “him?  He is the boogie man?  He does not scare me.”  Then they would walk away and consider my claims to be all trumped up.  People most often are not afraid of something they see, that looks normal.  No, a father dressed in a suite with a charming smile holds little ground on public fear, compared to the boogie man who is undefined and unseen.

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