Male Abused by Teacher

by Jason Lauren

When I was entering the seventh grade, I'd just turned twelve years old, and looked more like a nine year old. By this time, I'd already developed a form of addiction, namely the act of attracting girls, as a way of overcoming low self-esteem. It was probably a result of my parents divorcing when I was a year old, and my mother replacing my father with another man and forbidding my father to see me.

It was in the seventh grade that I met "her." She was my science teacher and I, along with four other students, became her pet. Under the guise of learning earth science in the hey day of the inaugural "Earth Day," the group of us spent a lot of time together exploring ecosystems. By winter, I'd become intoxicated by her worldliness, grace, charm and sophistication. For whatever reason, she had become intoxicated by me, perhaps because I was the antithesis of these traits; a young, cute, impressionable boy.

By the time spring break rolled around, I was spending every day after school with her, sometimes past dinner. I always managed to deflect whatever mild objection my mother would serve up to my coming home late. Where was I? I was making out with her in her classroom, or being driven by her to "lovers' lane" in the local park to "neck." This went on for many months, and I was a most willing co-conspirator, anxious and happy to learn about sexual expression through her. At this early stage, however, we did not have intercourse.

I began feeling the pressure of always hiding the truth from my parents and friends. That summer, I decided to break up with her (believe it or not!) in order to hang out with my peers. This apparently devastated her, and I was told by her best friend, another teacher who taught in the adjacent classroom, that I had broken "her" heart, and that I wasn't to show my face in that part of the building again! This intimidated me to no end, and I complied for the entire next school year, until the very end, when I went into her classroom to participate in an end-of-the-school year party. It was at this party that the flame was re-ignited.

That summer, I lost my virginity to her in her home. I felt like a man, and was relieved to know that no matter what happened to me from that point on, at least I was no longer a virgin [I was so deep then!]. Later in the summer, she and her husband(!) took me to Washington D.C. on vacation. It was paradise being so close to her for so many days, in an area that we were sure to go unrecognized. Since her husband often went off by himself, we had plenty of alone time to fool around.

We continued our affair throughout the next school year. The summer after that she and her husband took me to Great Britain where we spent seven weeks, doing more of the same.

When I got to high school, I once again wanted to be with my peers and date girls my own age, so I broke up with her again. I visited her not too long thereafter at her home and there was a young student there, essentially standing in my shoes!

I am 40 years old now. I had buried this past in concrete for many, many years. Three years ago, I went through my second divorce, and went into intensive therapy. It was there that I realized for the first time that what had happened to me was in fact a sexual molest, and not a romantic love affair between equals. My self-esteem, initially boosted by her affections, took another nose dive. How I managed to continue, onto college, law school and a successful career in public sector law is a wonder. I am a survivor, to be here writing this to you today.

I recently went back to my home state and visited many of the "scenes of the crime." I also filed a civil lawsuit against her (although I haven't served it on her) and spoke to the District Attorney who advised that prosecution is still possible these many years later because of the very young age that I was. I haven't decided whether I will pursue these avenues, and they seem far away, 3000 miles or so away.

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