Counting the Cost

by Jill Duggar

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.

“You’re guilty!” Pops was yelling, stabbing a finger at me, standing right over me. Mom started crying. Derick tried to speak, but I pulled him back. “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.

“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.”