Counting the Cost

It's like roses and thorns, justice and grace. You can recognize the beauty and happy parts of your story while also recognizing the more difficult parts. The two can coexist. The highs aren't automatically erased or invalidated by the lows.

Sometimes you have to be okay with other people not being okay with you. And you have to be okay with you not being okay too.

By preventing us from discussing anything controversial or sensitive with each other, the instruction not to “stir up contention among the brethren” became a tool for silence, for control, for guilt.

You want to know why I’m crying?” My voice was cracked, my eyes burning. “It’s that you think I’m some kind of horrible person just because I wear pants and have a nose ring, and yet you see that girl outside and praise her. That’s why I’m crying, Daddy. I’m evolving and changing, just like that girl out there, but you can’t see it. You treat me like I’m a prodigal who’s turned her back on you. You treat me worse than you treat my pedophile brother.

Growing up, having the world divided into thou shalls and thou shalt nots by Pops or IBLP ideology made life appear easier. I had grown up believing that if I just followed the rules, I would be okay.

You treat me worse than you treat my pedophile brother.

I didn't want to have to pour concrete around my heart in an attempt to shield me from the blast.

Getting out cost us, but it was worth it. It was worth it to find freedom from the guilt and the fear.

So, no, you don’t need a mediation meeting with your parents right now. You don’t need to go back into battle. You need to heal. Really heal.

From victims and survivors, to strangers, family, and friends, this book is dedicated to you. May you all know that you are not alone. That your story, your voice, and your mental health matter.

So, yes, I am grateful. But I am also realistic. There is much that I can look back on and smile, but I picked up some wounds along the way. It’s like roses and thorns, justice and grace. You can recognize the beauty and happy parts of your story while also recognizing the more difficult parts. The two can coexist. The highs aren’t automatically erased or invalidated by the lows.

Like my mom always told me, show me your friends and I’ll show you your future.

Deep down I knew that I didn’t want to bail on my faith. I was aware that people had used the Bible to manipulate me and press on the nerve of my guilt in order to make me conform to what they felt was acceptable, but I didn’t hold that against God.

IBLP had put a lot more energy into teaching me to fear the world beyond its doors than it had put into teaching me to trust God and discern for myself how to reach a good and wise decision on any given issue.

I’m Muscogee Creek,” he said, midway through our first session, “so I’m going to talk about arrows.” “Um, okay,” we said, not really knowing what else to say. “You’ve been in a battle for a long time. You’ve taken a lot of arrows, and there are more coming. Occasionally, back in the day, when someone would get shot with an arrow, the arrowhead might get lost inside them, and anytime that area got bumped it would be extremely painful. You’ve got a lot of different wounds on you. Some are old, some are new. And I don’t think many of those wounds have healed right.” The room stopped. My breath grew shallow. Cry or run, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. So I just sat and listened. “That’s why it hurts so bad so much of the time, Jill. Even when people do the slightest thing—maybe Derick says or does something dumb—but it bumps one of those arrowheads and triggers all that old pain. So, no, you don’t need a mediation meeting with your parents right now. You don’t need to go back into battle. You need to heal. Really heal.

You want to know why I'm crying?' My Voice was cracked, my eyes burning. 'It's that you think I'm some kind of horrible person just because I wear pants and have a nose ring, and yet you see that girl outside and praise her. That's why I'm crying, Daddy. I'm evolving and changing, just like that girl out there, but you can't see it. You treat me like I'm a prodigal who's turned her back on you. You treat me worse than you treat my pedophile brother.

When he said he was giving me to Derick at the wedding altar, it was an empty gesture. IBLP teaching was clear that his authority over me would never diminish. If I disobeyed him or didn’t honor his wishes and stepped out from under the umbrella of protection, I would be exposing myself to potential harm.

My sister Jana also formed a club that met in the shed and ate ice cream. I went to all of them regularly, especially Jana’s.

You want to know why I'm crying?" My voice was cracked, my eyes burning. "It's that you think I'm some kind of horrible person just because I wear pants and have a nose ring, and yet you see that girl outside and praise her. That's why I'm crying, Daddy. I'm evolving and changing, just like that girl out there, but you can't see it. You treat me like I'm a prodigal who's turned her back on you. You treat me worse than you treat my pedophile brother." Pops looked stunned. "Well...," he stammered. I wondered whether he was about to agree with me, to confirm that in his mind my sins of disobedience really were as bad as what Josh had been doing.

To those who have been harmed in the name of “religion.” To those who have suffered behind closed doors and have yet to find their voice. To those who have begun to find their voice but may still be living in a season of isolation. To those who like Esther of the Old Testament Bible story have courageously answered the call for “such a time as this” (Esther 4:14), and despite the backlash have now found their voice. From victims and survivors, to strangers, family, and friends, this book is dedicated to you. May you all know that you are not alone. That your story, your voice, and your mental health matter.

I grew up believing subconsciously that whenever there was any bad feeling, it was up to me to do what I could to fix it.

But I didn't hunt with a gun and I didn't lay traps. Instead of rabbit or quail, it was approval that I was searching for. And by the time I was old enough to balance a baby on my hip while I folded laundry -which I'm guessing was sometime around seven or eight years old- I was hands down the best approval hunter in the whole Duggar family.

It was worth it to discover that standing up for myself or others isn’t a sin or an act of disobedience. It’s a mark of freedom, of self-respect, of dignity. In learning to treat myself more kindly, I am discovering that it’s possible to do the same for others as well.

I felt something change inside me. I was still mortified by the thought of Pops feeling angry with us. But I was proud of my husband too. He’d fought for his family, just like he’d promised to do on the day we got married.

I’d spent much of my life listening to IBLP teaching on the “umbrella of protection.” When I’d needed it most, it had failed me. It felt as though I, as a woman, was expected do all I could to protect Pops and Josh. Nobody appeared to see it differently.

Ironically, this “family filming ministry,” which emphasized putting your family first, was sucking the life out of ours.

The degree to which we felt this book needed to be written was the degree to which we felt the voices were still being silenced and real harm was continuing to be caused by not telling it.

You can recognize the beauty and happy parts of your story while also recognizing the more difficult parts. The two can coexist. The highs aren’t automatically erased or invalidated by the lows.