I decided to share my story in the hopes that people will see how unfair the system is to "the victim"...
When I was about 14, I was in a really great Boy Scout troop and was having the time of my life. I had finally worked my way "up the ranks" and was the number two guy in the troop. The leader of the troop, Gary, became my best friend. My parents had divorced a few years earlier (and my dad almost never came to see me), so Gary and I became really close. We spent quite a bit of time together both with the troop and alone.
Well, on one of our camping trips, we ended up sleeping next to each other (one of the perks of leadership was sleeping in the "cool" tent....) Gary leaned over and kissed me. Not just a peck, but a full-on kiss. I kissed back. He unzipped my sleeping bag and started to touch my penis through my sweat pants. At this point, I became very nervous. This was my first sexual experience with another person and I was also worried about the other guys hearing something. I asked Gary to stop and he did.
Several weeks later, we had a sleep over at his apartment after a night of bowling and pizza and I was offered the floor in his bedroom. I accepted. Gary did not make any move toward me and just got into bed, shut off the light, and said goodnight. I asked him if he would continue where he left off on the camp out. He climbed out of bed and joined me on the floor. We both took off our clothes and had a night of passion. He went down on me and I had by first orgasm at the hands of another. He also tried to have anal sex with me (at my suggestion), but I was really tight and he didn't want to hurt me. I realize then that I loved him - emotionally and physically.
The next, however, my emotions were haywire. I realized that I was probably gay. I didn't really know what to do. I was afraid to go to my friends for fear of being totally outcast and I knew my mom would freak out, so I just stewed. Gary and I were still close, but never had another sexual encounter. This agony went on for several months.
Finally, after my falling grades and lasting depression finally alerted my mother to a problem (which she thought was drug abuse), I was dragged to a counselor. I thought that here was my salvation! The counselor told me that I could say anything in confidence! I could finally get help in sorting out all of emotions.
The very first session I spilled my guts. I told the whole lurid story and asked for answers. But, instead of help, I was told that she (now that I had unburdened my soul) had a legal obligation to report the incident to the authorities. She said I could call them from her office right then or she would. So I called.
The rest of the session, she continued to tell me how "bad" the things were that I had done with Gary and that it wasn't my fault. He had used me. She totally disregarded my feelings and made me feel like I was some kind of pervert.
That night, I cried my eyes out. I had betrayed the man I loved. I decided not to go any further and to not help the authorities.
The next day, two police officers came to where I was working that summer at a Boy Scout Day Camp and hauled me back to the station against my will. Even though they were in plain clothes, all of my friends and co-workers saw them flash their badges around. (They were legally obligated to get a statement within 24 hours of the initial report or they could not act on my "tip"). They grilled me for 6 hours. They would not let me call my parents. They totally harassed me until I told them everything. Eventually, with their harrassment and the constant barrage of crap from the counselor, I started to believe their line. Sex with two males was bad. Gary was pervert that needed to be locked up. I could help them with that.
Over the course of the next few months, they "convinced" me to drag all of my friends down to the station to also give statements. Well, suprise, another kid was also a "victim". Mid-way through all this crap I told my mother I was not going to attend any more counseling. I was not about to spend my time with a woman who was just going to degrade all of emotions. I also lost all of my best friends and (once the parents of all of the Boy Scouts got wind of the situation) lost my last refuge when the troop was disbanded.
The police finally shipped me over the Assistant DÄ. This woman seemed nice. Told me that she was there to help. Finally, I thought - Now I get some help. But what she really wanted was a promotion. She railroaded me into testifying against Gary and making me feel like the lowest form of life on the Earth - not only a scum pervert, but also a guy who ratted out all of my friends and a man I loved.
Gary was convicted and sentenced to three months in county jail and one year probation.
After this whole experience, I buried my sexuality. I had a few relationships with girls, but they were almost totally disastrous. Finally, after 12 years and a failed marriage, I am finally coping. I have "come out" and realized that I am bi-sexual. I also truly regret what I did (indirectly) to Gary and that I had not explored more with him physically. There is a big hole in my life now and, to make amends, I have tried to find Gary. I even hired a locator service, but it seems that he left the country. (I know he has family in Germany)... I just want to tell him "I'm sorry" for all that happened and "Thank you" for showing a young budding man the pleasures of love (physical and emotional...)
The moral of the story is this: I feel like the only real crime in this was the way I was treated by the authorities.
I have suffered through 12 years of pain before I finally saw the light and I know it is because of the way I was treated, not by Gary, but by the people that were legally supposed to protect and care for me.
In my book, Gary did nothing wrong. All of the sexual relations that took place did so at my insistance (he even repeatedly made sure I was still willing to go ahead). Some people would say that I was not mature to make decisions about sex at that age. To them I say: Bullshit! I was not a stupid child. The only thing I really lacked was information and only because the "health" class section on sexuality was basically "married-lights out-eyes closed-in the missionary position-only if you want babies" type.
I was in total control the whole time. The only reason I was unsure after the second time was because I didn't know how to handle gay emotional love and didn't know where to turn (since it was still totally unacceptable back then).
What really worries me these days is the fact that, although the gay lifestyle is accepted (for the most part), the vicitimization of young gays still continues. For once in the pedophile argument, there needs to be the say of the real people involved - the young people who are not stupid, but are caring, loving, sensitive people with feelings who can make decisions for themselves.
.... When I had my relationship with Gary, I was only 14 but I loved him. I was not seduced or tricked or lured or maneuvered into these feelings. They were genuine and last to this day (11 years later....) Our emotional love bloomed and it wasn't until much later that we (WE - WE - WE) moved it to a physical level.