Dating a Pedophile

I saw a post from BROADLY, an extension of VICE, titled “When I Dated a Pedophile.” Since it was a sponsored post I ignored it, even if it looked interesting. The second time I saw it my curiosity got the best of me. To summarize, author Ana Nikoladze met a 29-year-old ephebophile online when she was 15. As I read this I saw a parallel to an experience I also had when I was 15, right down to the creepy ponytail.

My best friend, the only person whose real name will be used, Brittany was dating a guy who I’ll call Leslie. If I remember correctly we were sophomores at the newly combined high school in our town. What I know for sure is that we were both 15. Leslie had come from the school that had combined with ours and was a year ahead but had failed a grade. I didn’t like him because in a small town where everyone knows everyone it was strange for me to not know anything about someone. But I trusted my friend and she trusted him, so I was okay.

In school, I was much shier than I am now and I’m extremely shy. Like most teenage girls, I wanted a boyfriend. Unfortunately, I was too shy to find one myself so I asked Brittany to find me one and she did in the form of Leslie’s friend Asher. We first met through a three-way call on Skype with Asher and Leslie in the same room. From the atrocious quality of the camera it was hard to see much, but he looked okay.

The first time we met was in a gas station parking lot. At 15 I was done growing in height standing at 5’8. Asher was shorter than Brittany who is around 5’4. I’m not saying being short is bad his height just added to his strange, creepy appearance. He wore his hair in a ponytail and had an earring in one ear. After this we went swimming and I was rewarded with a kiss before we left.

Now that I had a boyfriend it was time to lose my virginity. Brittany was actively having sex with Leslie and told me it was great and I needed to do it (thanks you asshole). * Brittany and Leslie expressed to me, Asher hardly talked to me, that my beau had a nine-inch dick and one testicle. Being 15 and never having seen a penis I thought that was huge. I was afraid of the pain and about how awkward it would be along with the self conscious doubts that he wouldn’t find me attractive. They also informed me that he was allergic to pubic hair to which I immediately called bs but I shaved anyway. 5 years later I see the giant red flag this was, other than him dating a 15-year-old.

When we met next we met at Leslie’s house. My mother had raised me to be a good kid in a middle-lower class household, though I assumed we were middleclass. The house was small and dirt, lacking parents that watched over us. I was completely out my element. We went to Leslie’s room and drank a few sips of rum stolen from his parents. After sobering up from being fake drunk we headed over to a house next door where some of Leslie’s family lived. There was a man and a woman who were the parents of a little girl who I had seen earlier. The woman was clearly on drugs as she was slurring her speech, stumbling, and her pants were coming off without her even realizing. No one mentioned this and continued to talk as if nothing was wrong.

They said we could stay while they left and that Asher and I could have sex in their daughter’s room since she didn’t sleep in it. I certainly had my qualms about having sex in a little girl’s bed, but at this point I felt like I had to. They left and we made our way to the room stacked high with pink toys. We sat on the bed, kissed, and listened to things falling on the floor of the bathroom next to us. I laughed both from being nervous and the fact that they were having sex whilst destroying a bathroom.

We talked more sitting on child’s bed in the dark than we had in out entire, very short, relationship. I was so nervous, but I hid it well. He was nervous too. I saw this opportunity to suggest that maybe we shouldn’t have sex since I was so young. He agreed, I thanked god. The four of us went back over to Leslie’s house. Leslie and Brittany had another go on his bed while Asher and I laid on another mattress in the middle of the room. I showed him my breasts, let him touch them, and Leslie accidentally saw them leading to many laughs over the years. The accidental exposure to Leslie didn’t bother me, I found it funny, but I felt sick to my stomach, disgusted by this man’s touch and the fact that I had allowed it.

I didn’t speak to him much after this and eventually he broke up with me via phone. Finally, I was free of the hell I had made for myself that I was too nice to get out of. The last I heard of him around four years ago he was dating a 14-year-old. I felt so sorry for her.

This behavior is common and even encouraged in small towns, rural areas. Like most things the young girl is blamed. I’m not going to give him full responsibility as if I have no control over what I do. I had a bad feeling and I didn’t listen to it. Unlike Ana I don’t feel molested, but I realize that’s the definition of what happened.

If this story has a moral then it is to speak out even if you think you’re alone because you’re not. I want to give a big thanks to Ana Nikoladze reminding we of this and why I should always speak out.

*I don’t blame Brittany for this. We’ve all used peer pressure and have been peer pressured.