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It hurt. He made me hold his penis and rub it. He laughed. I went to school the next day, sitting in class like nothing happened. I told my mother only that he had propositioned me, not anything else.

It took twenty years and much therapy before I could tell her the full story, before I could admit it even to myself. This man had known me since I was nine — he had two daughters.

How had this happened? Had he started listening to locker room banter? When I was fifteen I was date raped at summer camp by a boy I had a crush on.

Did he not hear me? The next day I tried to talk to him, to tell him what had happened wasn't okay.

He looked at me with a blank face and dead eyes. I blamed myself. Maybe I should have protested louder. But I thought he wanted to be my boyfriend.

I thought wrong. I ran into that boy at a Christmas party decades later. I gained weight. In college I was careful. If a guy showed interest and seemed safe and we started dating, I pretended to get drunk and pass out, just to see what he might do.

Would he put a blanket over me and be kind, would he push me aside in disgust or anger at not getting what he wanted, or would he take the opportunity to go up my shirt or down my pants?

I needed to know if I could trust him when no one was looking. I chose well and never had to deal with the latter.

When I was twenty, I went running on a bike path along a river in the city where I was a student. There was a park and families came to enjoy the sunset in the evenings.

Fishermen lined the water. It was a popular place. That day had been rainy. The clouds cleared by late afternoon, but when I arrived the park was empty.

I had never seen it like this. As I ran, I heard footsteps that got louder — two men, running directly behind me.

Turning my head I got a glimpse of them. They were not wearing running clothes. I whirled around to face them but they grabbed at my breasts.

I broke off and ran away from them—faster this time, but they kept up. Their legs were longer, they were stronger, and there were two of them.

They kept grabbing at me. I kept breaking away and trying to outrun them. I kept failing. I could kick them in the shins, I thought, I could kick them in the balls.

I had been learning how to play rugby; I knew how to tackle. I had been raised to see men, all people, as human, to be concerned about their welfare, to be a nurturer, to care.

I had never listened to locker room banter. They were bigger and they were stronger. I kept pushing their hands away from my body.

He reached down to grab it, cursing. There was no one around to hear me, but I screamed anyway; I made as much noise as I could.

On the subway home, I sat on the hard, plastic seat rocking back and forth. There were four other people in the compartment: two male riders and a man and woman, holding hands.

The train compartments did not have doors connecting the cars. I felt sick, panicked that the couple might get off at the next station and leave me in a closed compartment with two men.

I no longer knew what they might be capable of. When I saw her, I burst into tears and she thought someone had died. She was not entirely wrong.

The next day I asked the dean of my academic program to go with me to the police station. We spent the afternoon looking at mug shots of known rapists.

There were pages and pages of them. I wanted only for this crime to be recorded, to be a number. I wanted my pain to be counted. When I returned to school I explained to my professor why I had missed class.

There have been other instances as well, though less violent. Boys who were dating my girlfriends who also tried to kiss me in secret.

There was the coworker who, in front of our shared work colleagues, announced that my breasts were like overgrown melons.

He was 56 and a father of daughters; I was There was the man in southern Italy who grabbed at me as we passed each other on the sidewalk, laughing with his friends.

There was the teenager who stood near me at an empty train station on a cold January day in Japan. It was snowy and he was shivering, his thin shoulders shaking.

I worried about him. Until I saw that he was masturbating. I have been catcalled and followed and made to feel unsafe on three continents and in more countries than I care to count.

The only thing I have done was to be female and to have the gall to leave the house. How do I dress? I like turtlenecks and long scarves.

I rarely show my legs. I wear shoes I can run in, in case I might need to get away. Most of the time I wear the same black fleece vest that zips into a turtleneck.

It cloaks my stomach, waist and chest. It makes me feel safe. It feels like my armor. The mistake we make is thinking that harassment is about desire, lust or even attraction.

Harassment is about dominance. It is saying: I am more powerful than you are. I can do what I want. I once asked a therapist why it is that I have experienced four instances of significant sexual abuse in my life.

My therapist answered slowly. If a man asks me what time it is, I shrug and keep walking. You did?

It just happened. I didn't think it might be wrong or that we could get into trouble". How did you feel about your first gay experience?

Lee beams with evident fond memories and confides:. It was great. But I did think sex with a boy was sort of strange.

Until that time with John, I didn't have much idea about sex. It was mostly from the papers and television.

I thought that men only had sex with women. For a while it left me feeling a bit weird and confused". The relationship with John did not, however, stop Lee from experimenting with heterosexuality.

He found out and got very angry. He stormed out. For a while we weren't speaking. We made up afterwards". Did you enjoy straight sex? So when did Lee start thinking of himself as being gay?

I was watching a TV debate about gays. It made me realise that I was gay, and that it wasn't wrong. Since then, I've never had a problem about my sexuality".

My friends introduced him. One day, we were in his bedroom playing on his computer and we started messing around.

It ended up with sex. Other times, we had a game called 'kick the cancan', which involved kicking a can around.

The can would often end up in the bushes, and we'd run there to look for it. Sometimes Michael and me would have sex there". Her first reaction was that I was a bit too young to be gay.

She told me to leave it a couple of years. Then, if I still wanted to be gay, she said she'd accept it. I left it a few weeks, before telling her again.

She realised I was serious, and respected my feelings and wishes. Ever since, she's been really understanding".

They sent me to an education centre. That's where I met Andrew. We used to hang around together and became really close friends.

After a while he told me that he was on the rent scene. I asked him if he wanted a boyfriend and he said yeah. So we started going out with each other.

That was when I first had anal sex and learned about condoms. I shagged him and he shagged me. It bought tears to my eyes. It was painful, but I liked it as well.

I enjoyed it more than sex with a girl. I got more of a sexual sensation". For about 18 months, Lee joined Andrew doing sex for money, picking up men in the local gardens and bus station.

I stopped about a year and half ago. When I was doing it, I felt sick. I didn't enjoy it. I was only doing it for the money to buy drugs - mostly speed, acid and cannabis.

I also had a few bad experiences with punters. Once Andrew and I were tied up and raped". The staff didn't do anything to protect me, so I started running away".

Now I'm gay and want to have sex, they're suddenly very concerned about my welfare". He was okay. There was no pressure for me to have sex, but I did.

I had sex with him because I wanted to feel loved and respected". The paedophiles I knew always asked me if I wanted sex. They didn't pressure me.

If you consent to having sex with a paedophile, it's fine. If you don't, it's not". But I was 12 when I first had sex with an adult man.

I knew what was happening. The other boys I know who had sex with men were in their early teens. They understood what they were doing". Perhaps your friends were particularly mature for their age.

Most young people are not so sophisticated about sex. No one should be having sex with a child who is very young or who has emotional and mental problems.

You could have a relationship with them, but not sex - not until they are old enough to understand the responsibilities involved".

Many people worry that the power imbalance in a relationship between a youth and an adult means the younger person can be easily manipulated and exploited.

It's a concern that Lee acknowledges:. It's wrong. But that doesn't mean that every kid who has sex with a man is being abused".

It's stupid for the law to brand us as criminals". I mostly worry for the older guys that I'm having sex with. They could get life imprisonment and be denounced as a paedophile.

They might end up on the sex offenders register. It could ruin their life". If they are not forcing or hurting other kids they shouldn't have the threat of a policeman knocking on their door.

The current of age of 16 or 18 for gays means that those who are younger don't get proper sex education. My sex education at school was useless.

The law makes it difficult for teachers to give out stuff about contraception, safer sex and AIDS. If the age was lower, the facts about sex could be taught sooner.

It's stupid giving kids this information after they've started sex. That's too late. They need to know the facts about sex from around the age of 10".

I point out to Lee that an age of consent of 14 would not have been much help to him, since he was having sex from the age of eight.

Even with consent at 14, most of his past sexual relationships would have remained illegal. Even with a permitted one year age differential, Lee's affair with Andrew, who was three years older, would not have been legal.

Something a bit more flexible is required.

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