Father Figure
Sometimes love can be mistaken for a crime
There are two sides to every story.
What the prosecution hears is a distorted version of what the witness said. The story we tell the world is but a fragment, a caricature of what we experienced in the flesh.
Your first love shouldn’t be subject to this level of scrutiny. Your first kiss, your first sexual experience should not be a case for law enforcement officers to handle.
But there he was, old enough to be my father, sitting on the stand, while I watched from the sidelines, my school bag still resting on my lap.
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I don’t really know where to begin. This is a story I’ve been conditioned to bury. To silence. To hide.
In shame.
Most people have their own preconceived notions of what sexual abuse entails. The psychological profile of a paedophile. The root causes that push a child into this kind of mess. Where the family failed. The remedial action they should now take.
Everyone has an opinion, especially these days when you can’t read the press without seeing the word Epstein.
What place are they speaking from, though? Experience? Or are they just riffing off what they once read or watched on TV?
Talk is cheap. What’s not cheap is untangling the complexity of forbidden love.
I suppose I should start from the beginning. I must warn you this is not an easy read.
