By the mid 1990's I had come a long way towards accepting myself and
loving myself for who I was/am. I did not buy in to the
societal hysteria that foretold of me molesting a cute boy someday.
I had disowned my own fear about whether or not I could
be a loving, nurturing parent. I was no longer afraid to show my affections
or my emotions. All in all, I was coming out of the
shell of isolation that had surrounded me since childhood.
I felt better about myself than ever before in my life. I was surrounded
by many friends from all over the world, all of whom
loved me and cared about me and marveled at how at ease I was with
children.
I look back at those as my Golden Years. The Good 'Ole Days. It's a shame the gold had to rust so quickly.
As I overcame my fears about self-control, emotional stability, sanity,
et al, I began to have more and more involvement with
children outside of the classroom. This was not with my students, of
course, but through the summer camps and other
organizations with which I involved myself. I was well liked and well
respected, not despite my affection for children but
because of it. It was amazing.
But I let things spiral out of control, and the repercussions changed my life, and my outlook on life, irreparably.
It happened like this:
A friend of mine asked if I could stay with her two sons while she
was on her honeymoon with a new husband. Of course I
agreed, for I had known all of them for almost a year and we all got
along very well together. The week I stayed with the boys
was wonderful for all of us. I really felt like I had a family. I made
the kids do their chores and their homework, I cooked and
made them eat at the table with me. I enforced their bedtimes and did
all the other things a parent has to do.
And I also let them have fun. Games and stories and helping with homework…everyone was having a good time.
It rained one day and the youngest boy wanted to play in a mud puddle.
So I let him. I loved watching him and his brother, who
were ten and twelve years old at the time, play in the mud and have
a childish good time. I never could have gotten so messy
without getting a beating to go with it, so I reveled in their youth
and enthusiasm. And of course I made them each take a
shower and wash their soiled clothes while I cooked dinner for us all
later that night. It was a fun week.
On the last weekend, the younger boy asked to have a friend spend the
night and I agreed. Both children had been excellent all
week long -- very helpful, very polite, very nice kids to be with.
This was my reward to him. I should have said no.
That night the four of us played Hide and Go Seek in the house with
the lights out. Big mistake, and I knew it before I even said
"yes". My fear, even then, was that someone would fall and get hurt.
It never occurred to me that anything worse could happen.
It never occurred to me that my life could be destroyed by a simple
game.
I was hiding in a small bedroom closet, crammed up against clothes and
toy boxes, when I heard the sound of a boy running
into the room. He ran straight to my closet, yanked open the door,
dashed inside and slammed the door behind him. In his
haste, he never even noticed that I was there. As he backed into the
closet (shutting the door in front of him as he did) he
backed right into me.
It scared the hell out of both of us.
We screamed and fell backwards into the pile of boxes stacked against
the wall. Monopoly, Life, Risk, Connect Four, you
name it and it was in that closet. Those boxes were the only things
that cushioned our fall, though we would never have hit the
floor because the closet was just too small!
As soon as we stabilized ourselves we were overcome with a fit of the
giggles at what had just happened. At the same time, the
door was pulled open by the boy who was "IT". This was the younger
of the two brothers I was staying with. He had been
chasing his friend all the way down the hall and had actually seen
him run into the closet to try and get away, and the boy that
fell into me was promptly tagged and declared "IT" for the next round.
Nothing more eventful ever happened, and the complete police investigation,
including the sworn depositions of all the children
in the house support these facts. Never did I molest any child or touch
anyone in an inappropriate manner.
Now, of course, I realize that society deems it inappropriate for a
grown man to be playing Hide and Go Seek with boys. Now
I realize that "Inappropriate" is determined as much by the parents
as by the courts. It never would have crossed my mind in a
million years that I had done anything wrong by playing that game.
The weekend came and went without further incident and the game itself
was soon forgotten among the joys of football and
trampolines and video games. My friend and her new husband came home
from their honeymoon and all the children lavished
me with praise and begged her to go away again so I could take care
of them some more. This, too, is in the record.
I could not know it at the time, but the older of the brothers, whose
father had died several years before, had become bitterly
jealous during the week. Apparently, he had expected that I would spend
the entire week doting on him, and that I would
become his new father. He was in serious denial -- again, this is according
to the testimony of the boy himself (via his nightly
diary which was entered into the record) and the therapist the child
had been seeing since his father's death.
When my friend came home from her honeymoon, this boy was finally confronted
with the fact that I was not going to be his
father, and that his relationship with me was nothing more than friendship.
Some six or eight weeks after my stay with them, he told his mother
that I had molested both his brother and his brother's friend
while we were in the closet.
I still don't fully understand what would cause him to say something
like that, but it ruined my life. I know from his own
admissions during police interviews that he was jealous and bitter
towards me all at the same time. I know that he was jealous
of Matt, and envied the closeness Matt and I shared. I know that he
did not like or approve of his new step father. And I know
that in the weeks leading up to his false accusation, he had stopped
taking the medication his psychiatrist had prescribed to help
manage a bi-polar disorder.
But I still don't understand why he accused me of something that I did not do.
I know how hard it will be for readers to believe that I am innocent.
After all, I do like boys. Yes, I do think that both of the
younger boys were very cute. But I did not molest either of them, nor
even touch them inappropriately. The record, the
complete and exhaustive joint investigation by police and social services
has proved me correct. The brother of the accuser
denied everything that was said of me, and the boy from the closet
told so many conflicting statements that an investigation was
launched to determine whether or not he had been coached. It was determined
that he had, in fact, been coached by my
accuser.
No charges were ever brought against me nor was I ever arrested. Nor
did my name ever once hit the newspapers. I have a
fourteen page decision by the investigating authorities clearing me
in explicit detail of all allegations, calling each of them (one at
a time) groundless and baseless and completely without merit.
I know how lucky I am that the truth was finally uncovered. The police and Social Services wanted so badly to convict me…
Despite having a clear record, my reputation was destroyed. My life has never been the same.
And despite this, the worst part of the whole, horrible ordeal, was
that the boy who accused me told the police about Matt,
and they brought my beloved boy in for questioning. A part of me died
when I learned of that.
There were absolutely no grounds for any suspicion about my relationship
with Matt, and there was never any sexual activity
between us. Nevertheless, he was asked, prodded, and pushed to confess
all sorts of evil things about me. All of which he
truthfully denied.
The only time that I am aware of Matt lying for me is when he was asked if I was attracted to boys.
I hate that Matt lied for me. I hate that, due to me, some part, any
part, of his childhood was tarnished. I hate that he was
subjected to such an interrogation, and that he will always have it
in the record that he was suspected of being molested by a
pedophile. I hate all of that. It wounds me to remember the pain he
felt during those dark months -- pain and confusion and
anger and every emotion that no little boy should ever have to feel.
I feel like I let him down. Not because I "got away with something"
but because I had let myself become too comfortable with
my true nature. I assumed that since my motives were kind and good
and genuine, that everyone else would recognize them as
such. I assumed that since my motives were pure, that my actions would
be above slander.
I was wrong.
People only see what they want to see. When my friend assumed that I
was a wonderful person, all she saw was how much her
children loved me. The signs were all there -- both of her boys hugged
me and hung on me relentlessly. How could there be any
danger there? It was so obviously innocent.
But then when her oldest son told her those lies, she believed him (as
any good parent should). Now all she could see was what
a danger I was to children. Now she was only able to assume the worst.
Wasn't it obvious how evil I was? All the signs were
there -- I hugged both of her boys and encouraged them to hang on me
relentlessly. How could there not be any danger there?
It was all so obviously sick.
People only see what they want to see. When (if) you read this book,
you will see only what you want to see. You will find that
your preconceptions of pedophiles/Boy Lovers are reinforced, no matter
whether you wish us all hung or wish us all freedom
and equality.
No matter what you think about relationships between men and boys before
you read this, when you are finished you will find
yourself convinced that you were right all along.
Unless you have an exceptionally open mind, and are willing to think
about things from a new perspective. If you are willing and
able to examine several sources of data and interpret them with objectivity
and without bias, then perhaps this book will help
shed some light on a dark and unexplored corner of this once great
nation.
It is for the open minded among us that this book is being written.
And it is for the men of conscience who, like myself, are
attracted to boys and struggle to find a way, a place, to fit in with
society.
If you are attracted to boys I want to tell you one thing: There is
a difference between being a Boy Lover and being a
Pedophile. Only you can decide which one you will be. Please make the
right choice. Bringing harm on any child is the very last
thing that I or any other Lover of Boys would ever do.
Even inadvertently, though, it happens. Mistakes are made. My mistake
was not that I lost control and raped some kid (I am in
full agreement that child rape is a horrible crime that should be punished).
No, my mistake was that I trusted too much in
society. I thought that the world would see me for the truth of who
I am, and that I could live a life platonically full of boys
without fear or danger or concern.
That was my mistake. I should have known better, should have trusted
my instincts, long honed from childhood, that I must
always be on guard and never allow myself to show any emotion or love
for a boy. Further, I must be alone, lest I run the risk
of being misunderstood.
I once let myself grow careless and complacent, and because of that I hurt the one boy that I would die to protect.
I survived my ordeal, and though my career dwindled to an untimely end,
my friendship with Matt still lives. He came through
this, as I did, scarred and wary and mistrustful of "The System" but
perhaps a wiser person for it. I hope so. Certainly he is a
happy, well adjusted man despite my involvement in his life. I told
him that once: that he had turned out well despite having me
for a friend. He was offended and said that the person he had grown
to be was not "despite of" but "because of" the positive
influence I have had on his life.
There is no greater gift a Loved Boy can give his Adult Friend than that, and a hug.
Peace and Love
Kyosa
Submitted by Kyosa on September 16, 1999 at 15:45:52: