I’ve written quite extensively on here about the religious abuse I suffered as a teen, and the pretty horrific consequences it had for me. For much of the last two years, I’ve been trying to deal with it, both in terms of getting justice, and working things through with a really good therapist. I have my last therapy appointment tomorrow, and the thoughts I’m having about it all seem quite appropriate, given the circumstances and timing.

I first tried to get something done, and to seek justice, when Pioneer opened an enquiry into past abuses and ministry failures in 2023. As I’ve written before, the organisation conducting this enquiry (Christian Safeguarding Services) didn’t look into any of my allegations, given that they focused entirely on the actions of Gerald Coates, the founder of Pioneer. He’s been very conveniently dead since 2022, allowing everything to be pinned on him, and everyone else to get away with it. It really felt that there was a determined effort made to exclude everything that didn’t directly involve Coates. When I tried to take this up with them, I got a decidedly frosty response.

I then complained to Pioneer directly, and also to Revelation Church in Chichester, which was part of the Pioneer Network at the time. I was placed in the long-defunct Bognor Regis congregation of Revelation for my year, and so they were responsible for much of my pastoral care on a day-to-day basis. I won’t regurgitate everything that happened, but TL;DR is that I consider both organisations to have been grossly negligent, and I was seriously harmed by their extreme beliefs and inadequate safeguards.

Eventually they both responded, saying they found no evidence of any abuse, and that I could have complained at the time, should I so have wished. It all seems to hang on plausible deniability, as far as I can tell. Admittedly it was many years ago, and the people I had regular dealings with have long since left the church. It is very difficult to prove a lot of things, especially because I disposed of the journals I kept at the time some years ago.

It left me feeling very bitter and angry. I kept quiet about it for a while before recently contacting them both again. They’ve replied, but are still not admitting anything, and the response from Revelation in particular was very frosty and bordering on hostile. Reading these emails, and attempting to reply to them, left me with a horribly familiar feeling of stress and anxiety radiating from the pit of my stomach out to every part of my body.

It led me to something of an epiphany a couple of days ago, and that is that this has to stop. I’ve run out of road. I’m not going to get the justice I want, they’re not going to apologise, they’re not going to do anything meaningful, and given the absolute crock of horseshit they believe, they’re probably completely blind to what they did anyway. However much I plug away at this, the outcome isn’t going to improve.

Part of that offends the autistic part of me that’s obsessed with justice and fairness, and it really pisses me off that they’ve got away with it. Part of me thinks “well, this has been something I’ve lived with for thirty years, maybe I can keep living with it for another thirty as I fight for justice”, but another part of me thinks “the next thirty years are likely to be my last thirty years, and do I really want this consuming me?” The answer to that question is no, I don’t.

All my problems were caused in the first place by this whole thing becoming an obsession that took over my life, blinding me to everything else, and leading me to make terrible decisions. It became very clear to me that there’s a danger of that happening again, that all the balance and sensible boundaries I’ve been working hard to establish recently could get thrown out of the window as I get caught up on a tidal wave of rage and self-pity. It won’t do anything, apart from consume me and stop me living the life I should always have lived. Much as I wish it could be different, and I wish I could fight on, getting justice for me and the others who have suffered, I’ve realised it’s time to put the lid back on the box. I won’t contact them again. I need to accept I’ve done all I can, I’ve fought the good fight, and tried my best to stand up for the naive and goofy, but idealistic and very well-meaning, eighteen-year-old I once was, who didn’t deserve what ended up happening to him.

The fight has taken up nearly two years of my life, and I don’t want it taking up any more. Instead, I think I need to look at what I’ve achieved with it, and what I’m proud of.

• I put my story into words, and articulated what happened to me, which has really helped me understand what happened, how it happened, why it happened, and what it did to me.
• I’ve engaged in therapy, recognised a lot of things and taken big steps towards fixing a lot of problems. I’m not entirely there yet, but I’ve put the work in, and I’m reaping the rewards.
• People in power have seen my story. What they do with it is outside my control, but I’ve stood up for myself, and hopefully it’ll be food for thought, even if I don’t get to see any results.
• I’ve made peace with a lot of the things I thought and did. Some of them were directly my fault, some of them weren’t, but a lot of what happened to me happened under duress, and the abuse I suffered was absolutely not my fault. I did the best I could under difficult circumstances, with far less knowledge, wisdom and experience than I have now.

I need to look forwards now, to a brighter and better future, where I’m not constrained and pressured into living the way someone else thinks I should. I’ve had a glimpse of what that future looks like, and I’m determined to stride confidently into it. If I keep looking back at what happened to me, getting angry and bitter, and wallowing in self-pity, it’ll be like I’m going through life looking backwards, failing to grab hold of the best the future has to offer.

I can be proud of how far I’ve come, and I’m not going to let these people continue to have power over me. That said, I’ll continue to talk about it and write about it, and process what’s happened going forward. It’s helpful to do that. I just won’t attempt to contact them again, or waste any more time letting them control the narrative. I know what happened, I know who is responsible, and I just hope that things will change one day, and that no-one else will suffer like I did. I’ve done what I can to try and achieve that goal, but essentially in terms of direct campaigning, my work here is done.

I do have one final thing to say, though, and that is I absolutely haven’t forgiven those responsible. You know who you are and what you did. I hope there’s justice one day, even if it isn’t me that’s fighting for it any more.