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Predators are often in safe places. (THREAD)
At 19, I decided to get a driving licence & first joined the theory class. Teacher was a tall, charismatic man in his 60s, funny, engaging. He soon picked me to answer questions, I was doing quite well. All was good & entertaining.
At 19, I decided to get a driving licence & first joined the theory class. Teacher was a tall, charismatic man in his 60s, funny, engaging. He soon picked me to answer questions, I was doing quite well. All was good & entertaining.
One evening after class, I was waiting for my dad to pick me up, the teacher asked me where I lived, I told him I was very close—but that's the same journey I take—he said—tell your dad I'll bring you home next time!—I did. I thought it was very kind of him.
On the day he was supposed to bring me home after class, he suddenly started a different approach. We were alone in the classroom and he said—You know the way Jesus was surrounded by his apostles? They were his favourites and, you know, maybe they did more together than we know.
You are like one of the apostles, so no harm in getting a bit closer, don't you think?—My brain was racing. I didn't know what was going on, or maybe I did. I got into his car, I was paralyzed. He started driving and he said—so what if I asked you to give me a kiss on the cheek?
The doors were locked. I was panicking & started to get scared. I gave him that kiss. He said—very good, so from now if I touch your legs you won't mind it, will you?—and he did, hand on my left thigh. I muttered something, looked ahead. The drive is short, I thought. Resist.
He finally pulled over, it was over
I looked at him & he had this satisfied look, something creepy which meant "I got you, boy".
Off his car, I could start breathing again. I remember looking up at the moon, thinking—has this really just happened?
I looked at him & he had this satisfied look, something creepy which meant "I got you, boy".
Off his car, I could start breathing again. I remember looking up at the moon, thinking—has this really just happened?
I told my parents I preferred to be collected by them as that man was a creep. I didn't add much details. The next lesson, I sat at the back of the class, trying to be invisible. He soon picked another guy in the same exact way, a new 'apostle'.
The day of the exam, a month later, he gave me the sheet and said—what the hell happened to you, you disappeared on me—I looked at him with disgust & went on with the test.
I didn't report him, I didn't say anything to anyone about what happened. I felt repulsed by it.
I didn't report him, I didn't say anything to anyone about what happened. I felt repulsed by it.
I was 19. I still didn't know who I was. A boy afraid to lose his chance to get a driving licence if I spoke up. I'm just lucky I was able to escape, and probably strong enough to say no... but thinking about it now, what happened to the boys who came before and after me?
Was he able to molest them more than he did with me?
What I'm sure about is that I got a glimpse of how that shame works on the victims. It paralyzes them. Maybe for years. Maybe forever.
So never blame a victim. Never ask what took them so long to speak up.
What I'm sure about is that I got a glimpse of how that shame works on the victims. It paralyzes them. Maybe for years. Maybe forever.
So never blame a victim. Never ask what took them so long to speak up.
Help them take their time to unfold that trauma. They'll find their words.
I wasn't brave enough back then. But I have to respect my 19 yo self and something he had never experienced before.
I wasn't brave enough back then. But I have to respect my 19 yo self and something he had never experienced before.
All these women, men, girls, boys speaking up after all they have been through: you have all my true, complete respect.
