Were you a Preacher’s Kid?
<p>I was a PK, a Preacher’s Kid, and I had forgotten that was my primary identity until I visited my hometown. Someone asked, “Aren’t you Pastor Johnson’s daughter?” decades after I had left that role behind.</p>
<p>The worst incident, which I cite when explaining the reasons I left my hometown, was the reaction of a boy I had a crush on. We were on a Luther League hayride where we could burrow into the hay in the back of the wagon and get handsy with the person next to us.</p>
<p>The person next to me turned and looked deep into my longing with his beautiful brown eyes and said, “I would never try anything with you. I respect your father too much.”</p>
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