Counting the Cost

by Jill Duggar

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.

“Oh yeah,” Pops would say whenever he was asked about his kids and he thought none of us were listening, “Jill’s so sweet, so kind and caring. Out of all my daughters, she’s the most like Michelle.” For an approval hunter like me, being compared to my mom like that was the greatest prize I could ever wish for.

The role of perfect daughter didn’t feel like a role at all. It was who I was, who I wanted to be.

Even though he spoke passionately about the value of children and the importance of large families, he was single. He had never married and had no children, yet I never heard anyone at any of the conferences take issue with it. Mr. Gothard wasn’t like the rest of us. The usual rules didn’t seem to apply to him.

Hmm very interesting

I would sit and take copious notes on the importance of avoiding alcohol or submitting to the authority of my parents at all ages, even after marriage.

Wow, such a sad thing to learn as a kid that you are always under your parents authority even once you are a married adult.

my elder sister Jana was personally invited by Mr. Gothard to visit IBLP headquarters in Chicago and work there for a while. We were new to the inner workings of IBLP, but we knew enough already to understand why it was only Jana who was invited. She was the only elder Duggar girl who was blond, and everybody knew that Mr. Gothard liked blond girls. We’d joke about it, calling Jana one of “Gothard’s Girls.” It didn’t occur to me at all how strange, unsafe, and unwise it was. And if I had, I doubt I would have been able to speak out against it.

Naivete and controlled thinking by authority figures created this situation

There wasn’t a lot of talk about hell or damnation, but fear was a powerful tool within IBLP.

IBLP also encouraged parents to clip their children’s wings. They taught that children should stay with their parents until marriage, and that instead of going away to college, children should stay home and pick up other safer trades for work. They encouraged fathers to be self-employed, to build up family businesses and have their boys work for them. It was a clear way of keeping full-grown, adult offspring locked into the role of dependent children.

Interesting dichotomy between the parentification of children AND infantilization of the adult children. Keep the adult children dependent on the parents but have the children raising the younger siblings.

The more I experienced what it meant to allow your life to become the focus of a reality TV show, the more I understood that while it was still a ministry for Pops and the rest of us, it was something entirely different for the network that created us. The show—and by extension the entire Duggar family—was a vehicle for profit. No matter how much Pops talked about flying over NYC and the potential impact of reaching millions with the message of Christ, for the company paying the bills, we were there to entertain. We had to keep things fresh, and we knew that if we didn’t provide the viewers with content they engaged with, there would be no show. If things ever got stale, it would be game over.

A guy asking Pops’ permission to marry a Duggar girl, or the proposal itself, were some of the best TV moments, but there was practically no room for spontaneity.

Sounds like Jim Bob arranged mariages for the girls to keep thi gs going. He "pimped out" his daughters for financial gain.

no idea that we had never been paid for our filming and were working as volunteers. I’d never questioned it, because that’s the way it had always been, right from the start. And I had always been warned not to talk about the show’s inner workings or details with anyone for as long as I could remember. Plus, I would not want to hint at or say anything that could potentially be negative toward my parents either. We were just kids when the show first started, and all we knew was that it was Pops’ show, and our job was to do what was asked of us. To my way of thinking back then, asking to be paid for appearing on the show would have been as crazy as asking to be paid for helping build the Big House.

Financial exploitation of the kids by Jim Bob and Michelle.

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

“When it’s the day to announce, the magazine gets to post it on their site first. And then, two hours later, we can repost on our social media, just sharing our excitement and telling people to read the full story online or in print from People magazine and remind them to tune in to TLC to see more. So basically, we get to announce the announcement, right?” “Right.” “And this is normal?” “Yeah.” “But this isn’t normal. This is insane, Jill! I don’t like being a dancing monkey who has to perform at these stupid photo shoots. And I don’t like having to bend to the demands of when and how we’re going to post our own family announcements!”

Owned by the network and told how and when to announce life events

I wanted to please everyone, but it didn’t seem possible. On one hand I wanted to make Derick happy and totally agreed with him about not wanting to hand over control of the pregnancy and birth to the network. However, according to IBLP teaching, Derick was also under my parents’ authority and was supposed to obey them too.

Its insane that IBLP teaches that the spouse who marries into the family is also under parental control. These are adults who are married and starting their own family.

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.

blind to it at the time, but eventually I would see just how dangerous and toxic IBLP’s teachings about authority were in my life. The umbrella principle had sounded harmless enough when I was a child, but it was a brutally effective means of instilling fear and controlling behavior in the lives of others, regardless of whether they were adults or children.

For the sake of our marriage, he stepped under the umbrella with me, even though he later told me how weird, and somewhat angry, he felt when the first photo he ever saw of Israel was when Pops stepped out of my hospital room and showed him the picture that he was about to send to Chad for People magazine.

I am clear about the mistakes that my parents have made over the years with our upbringing, especially Pops, but the way my parents handled or didn’t handle things with Josh does not influence or justify the release of juvenile records and further re-traumatization and exploitation of innocent victims.

Answering all Megyn’s questions, with Josh watching from a couch just out of shot, was like having a bandage ripped off a deep and open wound. It was agony, so painful that I didn’t really pause to ask why Josh was allowed to be there in the first place.

“Hey guys,” he said after we’d greeted each other, hugged, and everyone had made a fuss over Israel. “I just talked to Josh and the guy who runs the place where he is staying. He seems to be doing good. He’s been working in the kitchen. And the guy who runs the program says he’s doing really well. He said he’s been like a role model for some of the others and that he’s their best person there.” Mom had told me about the program—a Christian-run rehab center up in Rockford, Illinois.

Sounds like Josh was good at putting on a mask when it was important

Though I love my parents and it made a lot of sense that they would want to protect and care for their child, I couldn’t help but think about the lengths that Pops had gone to in order to guard Josh’s privacy and keep him from being publicly humiliated. I mentioned this to Derick, and he said that he had noticed the same thing. The feelings grew stronger within me, and by the time I went to bed I felt sick to my core. When the In Touch story broke, all I had wanted was to be protected. All I’d wanted was to have privacy and space to grieve without feeling the weight upon myself to fix the situation.

I wanted my daddy to stand up for me in that way. Had he known that? Would he have done something different if I’d spoken up? I had no idea. 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.

“What are you worth? Ten dollars an hour? Twelve? That’s what I pay some of the others who work for me.” It was the first I’d ever heard of Pops paying anyone in the family,

Sounds like only the adult boys got paid, and paid very little at that. The comment of "what are you worth?" by Jim Bob comes off dismissive and insensitive as well.

I’m not saying your work here isn’t great, but we are reaching more people through the show than you are here on the mission field.” The sting was sharp. All the while Pops and Derick had been talking, I’d been cringing, trying to hide myself away right there on the bed, wishing that the conversation would stop. All my internal alarms about pushing back on authority had been going off full volume. But Pops’ comment had bite. It hurt. It felt like it was designed to make us back off. But Derick didn’t scare so easily. “I understand, Pops. But we would be so grateful if you could pray about maybe possibly paying us something. Jill has contributed a lot of hours to filming over the past decade, and she has nothing to show for it financially.

But while the request was the same, his tone was different. On all the other calls he’d tried to persuade us. Now he was trying to guilt us. “Is this you or is this Derick who is being the problem here?” I’d never heard Pops say something like that before, and it pierced like a dagger to hear him try to pit us against each other like that. I was speechless. “This isn’t like you, Sweet Jilly Muffin. Is Derick behind this? Are you having problems financially? Are you depressed?” I could feel Derick tensing beside me. “Pops,” he said, his voice calm and controlled. “We really aren’t trying to ruin anything. We wish we could help, but we’ve made a commitment here.”

“If you don’t come back for this filming thing, everything’s going to get messed up. We just got the show back up and going again, and we need to be real careful not to rock the boat with the network. They can’t film the promotional material for Jill and Jessa: Counting On without you, Jill. Just think about it, if you don’t come to this shoot and TLC cancels the show again, everyone is going to look at you and know that it’s your fault and that you could have stopped it. Are you gonna be okay carrying that burden?”

there was no sense that if we could just get through this storm with Pops then everything would be okay. On the contrary, I was terrified that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

Israel was just a year old and didn’t want to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. Inside, I felt just as restless. Just as unsettled. The closer we got to home, the worse I felt. A few months earlier we’d finally received a partial copy of the infamous contract that Chad had mentioned. Not the whole contract, but a few excerpts—including a clause that stated I had to reveal to the network if I discovered I was pregnant, as well as the final page that had mine and my siblings’ signatures inked in. That signature page was instantly familiar, especially when I read the date that I’d signed it. June 20, 2014. The day before Derick and I were married. The day Pops had told me that he had some simple papers for us all to sign in the dining room, saying that it only had to do with how we were going to get paid—not that we’d ever received any wages for any of our work. I’d been furious when I’d found out, but now that we were heading back to see the family for the first time, I was calmer. But I was still nervous.

We felt frustrated to be left with so many questions and only Pops to answer them. And based on recent history, we didn’t feel comfortable taking all our questions to him anyway. A discussion might just leave us with no real information again, and more heartache. Maybe Pops was just being generous, but both of us felt sure that there was some angle he was playing. After all, thirteen years as a filming family had taught that everything has a cost. Plus, Pops’ lifestyle alone told us that the show had generated a lot more than the equivalent of eighty thousand dollars each. At first, the changes had been subtle. We’d enjoyed more extravagant presents at Christmas, newer RVs to transport us together, and I’d noticed when Pops had started making bigger and more generous gifts to people in need. But as the show had grown, Pops had been able to buy more and more rental properties. He continued to be generous, often allowing several of his houses to be used by friends or family at discounted rates, or even completely rent free. It took a few days for the mist to clear and for us to suspect that the money wasn’t just a simple gift.

The contract wasn’t with TLC or any other network. It was with Mad Family Inc.—a company that Mom and Pops had previously set up. In return for the eighty thousand dollars, for the next seven years—plus an unlimited number of years beyond that if the company chose—we would have to commit to making not just ourselves but our children, and any children yet to be born, available to any show that Mad Family Inc. created or participated in. We would be paid for that work as well, but at a rate that we would have to accept without negotiation. We would also have to sign an NDA which would remain active for the rest of our lives. Eighty thousand dollars was a lot of money, but these strings were tight enough to choke. Derick and I didn’t even need a discussion. There was no way either of us were going to sign. Not that we told Chad or Pops that right away. We figured it would be wise to hold off on saying no to Pops until we absolutely had to. Pops had been clear that we were not to talk about the deal with anyone else, either each other, our other siblings, or anyone outside the family. To me, at that time, the level of secrecy and control that Pops exerted on us felt normal. We had been conditioned to obey, and it wouldn’t have occurred to me to see the hypocrisy in the fact that he would warn us against stirring up contention among the brethren while also using us against one another and duping us into signing contracts.

But most of all, what I really wanted to say was that I was thankful for my husband and his bravery and courage despite the obstacles we had faced together that year. In all the stress of things with family, he was my biggest champion, and together we were learning to take back control of our lives, one small decision at a time. The closer we got to the end of the year, the more pressure we came under to sign the agreement. We talked about it, prayed about it, and slept on it a whole lot. But even though Chad and Pops were persistent and persuasive, we just couldn’t get any peace about signing anything at all. Yes, we wanted the money—even though it was nowhere near an accurate compensation for the hours and days and years spent filming—but we did not want to be tied up in any legal agreement with Pops to get it.

My heart was open to the possibility of a new life, but my head was full of reasons why I couldn’t. For every whisper of hope, there was an avalanche of guilt. For every moment of joy, there was a stab of fear.

I was just waking up to the possibility that I might not be able to have any more kids. It was not an easy thing for me to accept, despite the fact that I had been doing a lot of questioning about IBLPs teaching over the years. In 2014 Mr. Gothard had stepped down after being accused of sexual harassment and molestation by thirty-four women. It was the year Derick and I married, and I’d started questioning the IBLP view of scripture. The closer I’d looked at the Bible, the more it seemed to contradict what I had been taught as a child, especially the idea that adult children were still under their parent’s authority, and the way they had placed Mr. Gothard on a pedestal. But one thing I hadn’t thrown out was the belief that children are a blessing. Before I got married, I knew that I wanted to have as many children as I possibly could. Becoming a mama had only strengthened that belief within me. But after Samuel’s birth, there was a very real chance that he would be my last child.

When it came to trusting God with the size of your family, there was one phrase that I heard often—that “God opens and closes the womb.” Growing up, I guess I’d always focused on the idea of God opening the womb and pouring out his blessings on us. I’d liked that idea a lot. But now it felt like God was closing me up. I wasn’t so sure I was okay with that. What if trusting God doesn’t only mean trusting him with more kids than I feel I’m able to handle? What if it means being content with only two kids?

my siblings didn’t come by a whole lot. I still wanted to hang out, and I’d see them from time to time if I made my way over there and hung out awhile, but it was just to be around them and pretend like everything was all good. I didn’t feel like we were on the same playing field anymore. They were living the life I used to live, and I had chosen to move on. Sometimes it was a hard reality to be faced with.

Back in Arkansas, there was no way I could talk about my fear, and my faith was feeling shaken. All the times I’d been warned not to “stir up contention among the brethren” had left their mark on me. I was hardwired not to be critical of my parents to anybody—not my siblings, not my pastor, and certainly not to my friends. The thought of doing it nauseated me.

It breaks my heart to see how much control, under the the guise of religion and "being a good christian" Jim Bob had over Jill and likely still has over the younger kids, and possibly even some of the adult kids.

Growing up Duggar had left me paranoid about people.

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.

I feel that.

Instead of just getting Derick to decide for me, I thought over our conversation and decided to pray and study the issue more myself. I looked at the Bible to see what else it said about women in pants (turns out not so much) and looked past the style choices of the pastor’s wife and the worship leader and decided that I liked, admired, and respected them. The more I talked with them, the more I could see that they were both godly women who just happened to wear pants and a nose ring. It didn’t define them.

“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.”

Our decision to enroll Israel in public school represented a significant step on my own journey out from IBLP—an organization that I was finally able to see clearly. It was a cult, thriving on a culture of fear and manipulation.

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.

Pops had made contact soon after and offered to send Derick to the same rehab facility Josh had been to, in the hope of curing Derick’s clearly raging alcoholism. Since he’d never been drunk or ever had more than two beers in any one sitting, Derick declined.

So just because Jim Bob completely abstains from alcohol anyone who drinks one or two must be an alcoholic? Dude get real.

“Take a risk,” Ray told us when we discussed next week’s exercise. He advised us to cultivate close friendships and talk with some of my siblings about problems we’d faced. “If you can share a little bit more about the things you’re struggling with, it gives them permission to do likewise.” It wasn’t easy. After so many years of being warned not to “stir up contention among the brethren,” I was preprogrammed to keep my thoughts to myself. But as soon as I opened up for the first time—saying yes to one of my brothers when he told me he liked a girl and asked if he could come over and get my advice on how he should navigate the relationship without Pops taking control—I realized two amazing things. First, that maybe the act of talking about the tough journey that we’d been on could actually be of help to some of the people I loved most and help them avoid some of the same problems we’d faced. Second, when I did talk about it, the sky didn’t fall in. And just like drinking a piña colada on a date with my husband, God wasn’t angry with me.

at twenty-seven years old, I was finally learning to build healthy relationships and have a healthier, less fear driven view of God. And I was realizing it was a whole lot harder to “walk the straight and narrow” Christian road and live with balance than to fall to extremes.

And when the agent from Homeland Security testified about the day they raided Josh’s car lot, I was shocked by Josh’s initial reactions to the raid. He seemed nervous, even asking, “What is this about? Has someone been downloading child pornography?”

Josh knew he was guilty and that he was caught.

At other times, I thought about Josh. I’d been told that I could receive a call at any point and be required to testify against him in court the next day. That was a sobering thought—a little terrifying at times—but I was willing to do it. I had thought about what Josh had done and reached a clear conclusion. After years and years of following the family line and trusting Pops when he said that things were better dealt with within the family, I wanted something different to happen. I wanted to know the truth. I wanted the evidence to come out. And I wanted Josh to be put away for a very long time. I felt anger at what he’d done—so much anger it burned. He had hurt innocent children by his actions, and then continued to avoid responsibility.

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.

and I in particular had to learn how to trust people. Decades of fear and paranoia didn’t unravel overnight.

Only now can I look back and see things clearly, like the way IBLP fostered a culture of manipulation and abuse, the fact that Pops eventually put the show above his children, or the toll it took on my own mental health.