Off in the wilderness, out in the woods, beneath the stars, only a few feet away from the remains of a smoldering campfire, behind the zipped doors of a musty tent and crowded into one sleeping bag together, Mr. Hooten’s cautious caring came unraveled. His “little buddy,” his Tom-Bo, became his toy. His protection became perversion. His acceptance of me became his using me. I went into the tent puffed up, euphoric, and longing for the next day’s outdoor adventure, my mind crowded with memories of Yellowstone adventures of the past. I came out broken, confused, and longing for home. The comfortable reassuring closeness of movie night, which he had used to reel me in, was replaced by the rough manipulation of a strong man accustomed to making people do things, and accept his doing things to them. He did as he wished and I did as he wanted. He was, after all, the master.
“Do exactly what I tell you to do or I’ll . . .” I had never heard words like that before, spoken in a tone that made it clear I had placed myself where I could no longer choose my actions. It would be the first time I had done so; the first moment of giving away control, an involuntary step onto the edge of an, invisible slippery slope, a re-defining of what was right, a challenge to all reason. I found myself, even at 8, rationalizing to prevent rejection.
Just as I would not weep years later when tossed in a holding cell as a result of my own actions, I would not weep that morning as I emerged into the clearing where the campfire’s ashes lay cold under the dawning sky. Not here; not with these boys.
♦◊♦
Mr. Hooten was a sick man with a twisted mind and a way of making evil look and feel like love. I had a deep need for an adult man worthy of my trust and admiration. I was ignorant and innocent and eager to be accepted, wanting and wandering, ready to be molded, as he said repeatedly, into a little man. And he took it upon himself to reshape my life. With sadistic precision, he filled in the gaps left by the loss of my father’s love with his predatory sickness. With a false smile and a corrupted touch, he slowly and skillfully and malevolently took my childhood simplicity and innocence and pleasured himself, turning it into premature guilt and confusion, which I buried deep inside so as not to disappoint him. He took the gentle psyche of an innocent boy in his perverted hands and twisted it so hard that he left a permanent imprint on the future shape of my life. And from this, he gained his wicked satisfaction.
Back in Denton, in my shame, I was silent. For a time, I curled up in the quiet with my comic books and plastic soldiers and the pain, both physical and mental, slipped away as I found justification for his intentions. I resented myself for the sullenness I had shown in the last day of the camp-out, for the hurt feelings he must have had as I shied away, which had made him mad and had lead to his ignoring me all that final day. I felt guilt—not for his actions in the dark, but for my reactions in the daylight—and I was ready to tell him I was sorry.
In only a few days, I was longing for movie night. I needed Mr. Hooten to be nice again, to curl up on the floor of the big room full of boys and pull me—only me—up in front of him and hold me, touch me; make me feel special. To remind me that I had been chosen. I decided he had not really meant to hurt me in the tent, that I had just been stupid and not like other boys, who would have been glad to have been given such attention. I had been mean and ungrateful and I wanted to make it up to him so he would keep me in his troop.
Mike and I were only a few minutes late to movie night, but the lights were already down low. I scouted the room from far in the back and finally saw Mr. Hooten, there in the darkest spot in the middle behind the projector and I started picking my way around and between the sprawled bodies of the scouts. And then I stopped. Mr. Hooten and another burr-headed boy were curled up together in the dark. A smaller boy, maybe only 6, someone else’s little brother, had taken my place. My week of fading remorse had resulted in a jarring rejection. I found myself a spot alone far out on the edge of the room. I don’t remember the movie.
After Mr. Hooten traded me in, I retreated into a shell, custom-built a safer world around me, and became very selective about who would enter. It was only a brief “relationship,” but like all children preyed upon by sick adults, I did not escape undamaged.
♦◊♦
When I was cast aside by Mr. Hooten and able to think more clearly, it didn’t take me long to know how wrong it had all been. Feeling real guilt for the first time in my life, I went to a couple of people I thought I could trust. I was embarrassed and frightened, but I took a risk and told. I sought real rescue.
“I’ve been doing something terrible. Can I tell you about it?” I remember asking. It did not occur to me that it was he—Mr. Hooten—who had done something terrible.
“Yes,” I was told by each. “You can tell me anything.”
And I did. And I thought they were listening. And I thought they would help me.
“Don’t you ever repeat a word of this to anyone,” one said angrily. “People will call you a liar . . . and a lot of other things. There’s no excuse for making things up just to get attention.”
One even punctuated his shocked response with a hard punch to my shoulder, as if the pain would reinforce his warning to never speak of this again.
I tried to tell a few others, but it was too difficult for them to hear. Pretty soon I learned that there are things you just don’t tell people. Things that people do to you; things you yourself do. Secrets that slowly become a part of you. Deeds that do indeed shape your manhood, but with contaminated clumps of clay. In Mr. Hooten’s menacing shadow, my voice had been too small.
I don’t know what eventually became of Mr. Hooten. I have lain awake at night wondering about the hurt and damage he inflicted on other little boys. Sexual abuse is slick and tricky and well-disguised. It slips into a child’s world with a smile and a laugh, a chuckle and a touch, and doesn’t leave until childhood purity has been stolen away and destroyed, and along with it, the ability to trust.
I don’t know if Mr. Hooten was gay or straight, because it was not really about sex at all. It was sport and selfishness and an unending search to fill a perverted emptiness. It was the conquest of a child, power over innocent prey, the sad satisfaction of a selfish soul at the expense of another, and the crumpling and tossing aside of a person perceived as less significant. There was no love, no care, just power and presence preceding emptiness and rejection from both to each.
And shame. I know there was great shame on my part or I would have told my father. I wonder—would he have risen from his own self-absorption to rescue me?
I’ve not been one for excuses. I know what statistics show—that a great majority of grownups with sexual identity problems were abused as children or abandoned by their fathers, or both—but I believe that, despite all that, the responsibility for my actions lies with me. What I became later and what I did in the desperate acts of self-destruction rest on my shoulders, not on Daddy’s or Mr. Hooten’s, both really only transitory visitors to my life. But I do know that in the mix of the me I came to be are the shaping memories of trains along Texas Street, a small boat on a star-lit pond, a grimy Continental Trailways bus racing down the road to Fort Worth, dark movies, camping tents, and a punch on the shoulder. Things that add up.
Some of us keep our secrets too long, thinking it is our burden to bear, unaware that we share it with others in our very actions, in the way we live as we hide and dodge and hurt the ones we love, even as we destroy the goodness of our selves.
In the span of a year I had lost my father, found Mr. Hooten, and lost him also.
♦◊♦
The accepted “side effects” of childhood sexual abuse are many: guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, self-blame, a feeling of powerlessness, an inability to say no to others in relationships, difficulty nurturing self, a lack of trust in your own feelings, an emotional shut down or “numbing,” an inability to see your positive aspects, a desire for perfectionism, a need to control at all costs, a feeling of being invisible or of being a non-person, problems giving or receiving affection, difficulty relying on others. Each of these side effects can produce a new wave of guilt, an inner question that goes unanswered: “Why can’t I just get over it?”
The question is punctuated by the advice of others: “Get over it.”
The anger the adult feels at himself for acting out on something that happened to him as a child is furious and frustrating. We are allowing that person to maintain control long after he has moved on. Depression is familiar.
Some of the children abused by Mr. Hooten and the other predators may emerge, through the grace of God, to lead completely normal lives, unfazed by their brush with evil. Others may not survive at all, driven by self-doubts to self-destruction, seeking solace in things that lead them no-where and merely compound their lostness until they can no longer find themselves at all. Others may move into some form of sexual abuse themselves, seeking power over spouses or repeating the misdeeds done to them. Others may just retreat into themselves and live behind a wall.
♦◊♦
I appreciate the fact God made each of us “wondrously.” I just wish people would leave His work alone so it can manifest itself in the way He intended. That little boy who wandered into the community room dreamed of being like his dad, only better. Even 8-year-olds can look beyond rockets and rifles to being daddies. I was going to do it perfectly. And in my perfect world, I would be the best Daddy. There would be no end to the zoo trips, the campouts, the fishing, the storytelling, the listening. I would rescue. I would have had nothing to hide; my children would never have been confused.
If only we could see what lies ahead. If only there were not so many twists and turns and hills and valleys obscured. We could carve out a road to overcoming instead of laying down stones for a pathway to succumbing. We would know we were being swallowed up before we plummeted so far into the depths of the struggle that all our energy goes into flailing instead of climbing.
It would take many years and a great deal of pain before someone would lead me down the better path of forgiveness for both Daddy and Mr. Hooten . . . and myself. Forgiveness would be the only way to begin to unzip the dark tent and emerge into the clearing.
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“If sin announced itself, like the first incoming missile of an air war, we could duck and run for cover. It doesn’t happen that way. Sin slides in.”
I’ve not read a more perfect description of how my experience of abuse progressed. Although I have done plenty of work, after reading these two sentences I feel so much more absolved of responsibility for what was done to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
A similar story but I was a few years older. And although I moved away from him because I grew out of the scouts I allowed many others to cross those boundaries, and as your words above clearly stated, I had “an inability to say no to others in relationships”. I allowed many others to do the same, over and over. The attention and pleasure was wonderful but showed up as shame for decades to come. I allowed it to happen, and at times I sought it out. So I was the bad one. Funny, I sought professional help a… Read more »
An horrific experience; so beautifully written. A complex issue put into words those who have been abused can identify with. Your gift of words; the ability to express what others are feeling is a true comfort to so many. Your voice is SO important to this issue.
wwwsomesecrets.info
Regarding sexual identity:
We survivors do not have to edit our survival theories and methods to be “politically correct,” or to make anyone else feel better. I did that for far too long! (I’m gonna say that one again)
We survivors do not have to edit our survival theories and methods to be “politically correct,” or to make anyone else feel better.
Rob,
I’ve often wondered how best to respond to people who read stories like mine and then focus in on the issue of sexual identity, perhaps because that’s the part that speaks to them most personally. I’ve never been quite sure how to respond. You did it well and I appreciate that.
I’m sorry for the obvious pain in your past and I am very thankful to hear you use the term “survivor.”
God Bless,
Thom
Thank you for being so brave to write this…so chilling…! It is so classic and so invisible how predators slip into the lives of children and seamlessly fill in the emotional gaps and engage in psychological warfare with young psyches until the prey does not know what is wrong and what is right….The way you describe the slithery moves the predator made in the dark movie room was really unnerving…and frightening….! To this day, if men get too close to me or sit too close on the train/subway, I have to get up and move away…sometimes I feel such a… Read more »
Leia, Thanks for your comment. I think those of us who have experienced sexual abuse and betrayal as a child do develop a bit of an enhanced ability to discern potential harm and makes us a bit wary of some people, perhaps those who remind us of the perpetrator. On the other hand, I still find myself a bit too trusting at times, still wanting to believe that most people mean well for others. The passage of time does nothing to dull the sadness of knowing that decades removed from my own abuse, and with so much information out there,… Read more »
@ Rob: Thanks for the chuckle about how to deal with the “get over it” people; I’ll have to try that. @ Thom: First, thank you for sharing your voice. There are so few male survivors speaking out. However, as helpful as hearing your story can be to a fellow survivor like myself,some of your replies here concerning “gay is sin” have hurt and troubled me. I’m a bi male survivor of incest from both parents, 19 years child sexual abuse, torture and domestic violence, and my father who first raped me at age four, began renting me to men… Read more »
Why is humanity in such a state that anyone can even question this happening?
I do know why we could never tell, and there’s no regret in not telling. Society was not geared for even hearing it.
The lead perpetrator (an older boy of town stature) once asked me (at age 10), “how do let us keep doing this to you?” That moment in time sealed the destruction.
Extra Reading…
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I wonder if there is a difference between men molested as children on a handful of occasions and people like myself who were molested throughout their entire childhoods by their own, real not step, fathers? I feel like it is a double violation and when it goes on for so many years (mine went from my earliest memories until I was 12) I suspect it must do tremendous damage. It certainly feels like it does. I also find in interesting that someone in my position, someone raised in a hyper-sexual and (homosexually so) environment over time would still turn out… Read more »
Thank you so much for your article and your mission to help! My brother was molested by our priest and then shot himself at 25. I wish he could have had support of other survivors dealing with the same feelings. My own childhood sexual abuse needed healing to stay alive, too. I found a “get over it” statement repeated on this page. I wrote about this same statement, too, in my own book. If I may quote from it– “…members of my family accused me of focusing on the bad, and suggested I think of the good times in my… Read more »
I was very moved by your story ,Thom. It seems strange to talk of forgiveness as a means of healing the pain, yet I know of no other ‘cure’. Maturity is required to understand that the person can be forgiven and the self must be forgiven, even though the acts perpetrated against us remain unforgivable. Perhaps that is why so many struggle through a tattered childhood, rebel and self-destruct in young adulthood and only find the courage to truly face the past and forgive in mid-life or later. To be a rescuer takes courage. You displayed it when you sought… Read more »
Agonizing, devastating, but even more, beautifully written. Thank you for having the courage to share this experience, and its legacy, with us. I am sure many will relate all too well.
Thank you for this courageous disclosure. There is so much important here. The traumatization of lack of rescue, lack of belief in the child and the child’s story can be as harmful as the original event, sometimes moreso. Abuse is so terrible, but it is often only one person. When society fails to believe the child and act on behalf of the child, the child loses all sense of safety and security in the world. I wonder what would have been different for the author if he had been believed and the scoutmaster had been imprisoned and the Boy Scouts… Read more »
DW, Thanks for reading the story. I’m sorry that you, like me, were sexually-abused as a boy. And I’m very sorry that your brother has not been more supportive of you. That kind of reaction just deepens the pain and makes it even harder to move on. You have your faith and your family, which is a real blessing. You haven;t given up, even though you are facing a tough temptation towards same-sex relationships, something that happens often to abused boys who long for right relationships with men, but find it hard not to long for something physical. It’s a… Read more »
WOW! That is the first thing that came to mind. The other thing was, “Will I ever be in a place that he is in.” the place I am referring to is one that you are writing and being transparent and helping people. I to was molested when I was 8, but by my step dad. I am 29 now married for 7 years and have a 5 month old daughter. However, I still feel pulled back into my childhood, like I can’t get over what happened. Like you said when you tell some people they are like “get over… Read more »
DW,
There are SO SO many things you could do to them with an end-statement of “get over it.” However, I strongly suggest you pick just one.
My favorite is to fuck with their mind. Show them something on the web so disgusting and trippy-psycho-perverted internet shit that no one will ever forget. Then tell them “try not to think about this next time you are having sex with your wife. I dare ya…dont think about this.”
Holy God…does that ever work. LOLs all around!!!!!
When they call you to bitch about it…you know what to tell them.
I may have missed something, but it seems to me the story is incomplete. Have you ever done anything to bring Hooten to justice? If he is still alive and you haven’t, I think you should.
Larry, Thank you for reading the story. How I have wished for many years that I could complete that part of the story. I do not know what became of Mr. Hooten. I tried for years to find him. Not long after I was molested, my mother married the first of three stepfathers. We moved frequently. I returned to Denton in late junior high. I was still, at that time, carrying the secret. Through the years I tried to find anyone who knew Mr. Hooten and failed. I have done Internet searches to no avail. It is my hope that… Read more »
Switchintoglide, It might be better, since your questions are well-meant and well-deserving of a thorough response, to continue this in e-mail. As I said, I hate to take the conversations away from the issue of pedophilia, or to give people the mistake impression that I see pedophilia to be a homosexual issue. I do agree with you that the church has frequently mishandled sexuality and the various problems that Christians and church members experience. As we study sin, we tend to forget that our main commandment as followers of Christ is to love others. While I do consider acting out… Read more »
Hi Thom, just ordered your book via Amazon.
I think the worst kind of abuse is – Spiritual Abuse,
perpetrated under “godly” authority ie: “In the Father’s Name” or
“The Bible tells me so”. Fathers, Pastors, Elders people highly regarded in society and the Church.
Hypocrites and white-washed sepulchres perhaps?
That was incredibly well written, touching, and thought provoking. Your thoughts of forgiveness to those who have hurt us, even in ways as damaging as sexual abuse, are encouraging and unplifting. I was abused myself and learning to forgive the people who had hurt me was the most liberating, healing thing- a true turning point in recovery. It did not come easily, nor is it easy for many people who haven’t experienced abuse to understand, but it made all the difference. Many things that we encounter in life are beyond our control, but we decide how we allow ourselves to… Read more »
Oakyafterbirth,
You have it right. No matter what is done to us, our response is still our own. I think it begins with forgiveness because that is the point at which we stop letting others have control.
Gos bless.
Thank you for sharing this Thom. People out there need to know how easily it happens and how badly it can damage you.
What a very powerful testimony…thank you for sharing. A friend of mine posted this on Facebook, and I decided to read it. It is appalling what some people will do out of their own desires…especially hurting a child in that process, but, as you said, there is One who can heal those wounds. “My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” Thank you again for sharing, Bro. Hunter.
I appreciate your perspective and your story, but the anti-gay sentiment that is worked in here really rubbed me the wrong way. It is fine that you have had these personal life experiences and made the choices that you have about same-sex attractions, but most people with same-sex attractions are not abuse victims, acting out, or sexually broken—that is you projecting your experiences onto others and perpetuating homophobia and hate.
Switchintoglide, Thank you for your comment. If you have been to my blog, then you know that I did not come to my beliefs about same-sex attraction lightly. I am sorry that you somehow sense homophobia or hate. Neither are true of me. I believe differently than you do apparently, but my desire is to be compassionate. I don’t think I have failed at that. I’m neither homophobic or hateful. I do believe that my early indoctination to sex through abuse, coupled with my father leaving did affect my sexual identity and development. I know that many others share that… Read more »
I am just wondering what I am supposed to make of the following passages from your work then: “I know what statistics show—that a great majority of grownups with sexual identity problems were abused as children or abandoned by their fathers, or both. . .” Can I see a citation from somewhere other than the Family Research Council the corroborates this claim? And what of this, from the banner of your website: “Many men and women struggle with sexual identity, fighting an urge to “act out” in their sexual brokenness. This struggle can be all-consuming at times and extremely costly.… Read more »
And once again, to note, this is not to minimise what you have been through as a survivor of sexual assault. I just want that to be clear. However, we all have to take responsibility for how we use our stories and life experiences, and how they effect others on this earth. I remember the whole “Coming Out Straight” brou-ha-ha, and I can’t help but think of Richard Cohen’s work when I read yours. This interview is about his books, and I think it illustrates some of the flaws with that whole mode of thinking:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26315908/#34337416
switchintoglide, You do me a great disservice by linking me in any way to the attitudes expressed in the video. If anything, it shows that you have little insight into me at all. Indeed, I have been involved with others in the effort to shed light on the horrors of the Ugandan bill. I am not, as I have stated, a person who spends his time trying to convince men and women not to be gay or making them feel bad about themselves. I do believe that if a person comes to know Christ, then Christ may very well lead… Read more »
I speak of “unwanted” same-sex attraction because there are plenty of men and women who struggle with homosexuality, but because of their faith or personal understanding, do not “want” it. I’m sure you know that. I know from personal interactions with others and through direct counseling with both secular and Christian psychiatrists and counselors that introduction to sex at an early age and under distressing situations does indeed contribute to sexual identity issues for many. I did not say all. I do believe it did for me. Regardless, my decisions as an adult are my responsibility. Also, when I speak… Read more »
Again, I am not trying to malign you, and I apologise if I came across as rude–I appreciate your taking the time to respond. Part of my objections are based on a knee-jerk reaction based on what I have seen from people who promote “gay-to-straight” therapy or prayer, which has psychologically and emotionally broken quite a few people in my life. I will try to keep my own biases in check. I am not trying to hijack the thread, I am just trying to understand where you are coming from with the idea of “sexual brokenness.” Is it a term… Read more »
Thank you for pointing out these things about the author. I feel betrayed that this site would post something from an anti-gay author.
Sayna . . . I am not “anti-gay.” As a Christian, I know from God’s Word that every one of us — heterosexual or homosexual — is broken in some sense. If not, why would it have been necessary for Christ to have come? Regarding homosexuality, I do believe — based on the clarity with which I think the Bible speaks — that homosexual activity is a sin . . . just as is heterosexual lust, adultery, pornography and host of other things. Even so, there is no hierarchy of sin. That’s a human thing, not a God thing, and… Read more »
I don’t see my being homosexual as a sin. There are many other things that are regarded in the bible. Do you agree with all of them as well. Every touched a real football? That’s a sin. Do you wear clothing made from more than one type of material? That’s a sin. Stoned anyone lately. That’s pretty big in the bible.
The bible is a book written by men. Each of these men had their own prejudices.
Thank, you Melanee. And thanks for the book plug. LOL. (Amazon has it at a great price right now.)
Thank you, Thom, for TRUSTING JESUS when He Rescued you!!!
God bless you, brother!
Peace,
Melanee
(P.S. I need to purchase your book, Surviving Sexual Brokenness: What Grace Can Do, & get to reading!)
(P.P.S. It was great seeing you in January!)
Mervyn,
Thank you for reading my story and taking the time to think it through and comment. I believe, like you, that this story needs to be told on behalf of the many who have remained quiet. And yes, it “really happened.” No enhancement. No fiction. Still, God is good and I know now that His grace is greater than anything we will ever face.