Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

I was in my young teens when I started to realise. I denied it. I hoped it would go away. I tried to figure it out so maybe I could change it. I had learned from the media, incorrectly, that “paedophile” and “child molester” were the same thing. Even my family’s dictionary seemed to think so. My greatest fear then was that I was a paedophile. Because I thought that meant I was destined to become a child molester.

As I mentioned in another story, I found someone to look up to, author Lewis Carrol (Charles Dodgson). I became convinced that he was also attracted to little girls, and that he was never inappropriate with them. It’s hard to know those things about him for sure, but I followed in the footsteps of my image of him.

Over 30 years later, I have an adult son I raised. I never would have met him if I hadn’t been a paedophile. I’m in an online support community for minor-attracted people (includes paedophiles, hebephiles, and nepiophiles). I have supportive family and friends I am out to. And I sometimes have the privilege to spend a little time or even just share a smile with a child. These are the greatest joys in my life.