I was 14 and although I dressed and acted much more grown up, I was very much a virgin and vulnerable.
I never set out to hurt anyone and dating a married man the same age as my father was not something I set out to do.
To earn extra pocket money I agreed to babysit for a couple who were friends with my father.
The couple were lovely and had 3 young children who were as good as gold, all I had to do was sit and watch TV as they were already in bed fast asleep before the parents left.
It was easy money and I enjoyed it, made me feel more grown up. I babysat twice weekly, on a Wednesday for them to go to bingo and on a Saturday so they could go out together.
I began to visit them often and helped them around the home. The husband was rather clever and would help me with my homework.
I was often invited around for tea. It was nice to feel part of a family, my home life wasn’t ideal, yet here I felt a sense of being wanted.
I helped bath the kids and loved reading them a bedtime story, playing mummy and housewife it was like a game of grownups. They got a great little helper free of charge.
When the husband turned and kissed me passionately one evening, I responded.
I was 14, he was 35.
It was rather exciting and I knew it was wrong, yet that just made it even more exciting.
Dating a married man was fun and something new for me, it took away the crap that was happening at home, gave me something to look forward too and enjoy.
I began to get butterflies when I went to visit them, perhaps this is what love felt like.
I took much more care over my hair and makeup and wore my best outfits, remembering to put a thick jumper over the top of the flimsy top I wore before leaving the house, only to take it off as soon as I was out of view of my father.
The husband began to arrive home earlier than his wife when I was babysitting; even steal a kiss or a quick fumble when she was home yet out of view.
I began to hate the wife; she was always in the way.
I never stopped to think about what would happen if we got caught. In my naive way, I didn’t believe we were doing anything wrong.
They didn’t exactly suit each other, she was a little overweight and wore sweat pants, never wore make up. He deserved better.
I didn’t stop to think of the consequences, I was far too busy having fun.
Of course I told all my friends at school I had a new boyfriend and yes I was faithful to this older married man, I truly did think we belonged together. I never told my friends he was married, I also knocked a few years off his real age.
He told me he loved me and could not wait until I was 16 so we could run away together. I believed him. He gave me hope, a way out of my unhappy childhood.
I have no idea how his wife never noticed. I remember one day the husband was in bed with let’s say man flu, I can’t remember why but he was in bed when I arrived. She asked me to take his cuppa upstairs to him as he wanted to talk to me.
I felt my heart sink.
I guessed she knew about us and she had told him he had to break up with me.
I lowered my eyes and took the cup from her and went up to their bedroom.
He had nothing to tell me; instead he grabbed my hand and placed it around his erect manhood. I was scared; I had never touched a penis before. Yet he moved his hand up and down and I just went along with it.
Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want him to stop, he was not forcing me. I just didn’t really know what I was doing.
The door burst opened and in walked his wife as I quickly snatched my hand from under the duvet cover. She must have been blind not to have seen that and the flustered look on her face.
Instead she smiled and said “so have you asked her then?”
They were moving home, not far away and had wanted me to help them move, more so entertain the kids. Sleep over while they unpacked at the other house. Of course I would.
The husband began to pester me for more sexual interaction than I was ready for.
I wanted to please him, yet knew I was not ready to have sex.
His pestering began to scare me a little and I began to keep my distance from him. It made it awkward as his wife loved having me around, free childcare for her. I started to make excuses not to go.
I did at this time start dating a boy my own age, the husband was not happy and started to quiz me over what I was doing with him, had I touched him the same way and was I allowing him to do more things with me?
I stopped going round to their house, spending more time with other teens my own age and in time I guess the love affair with the married man just frazzled out.
I don’t remember how it ended, but I didn’t babysit or was asked to go around again.
Looking back dating a married man seems so sinister.
What would a 35 year old man want with a 14 year old girl?
My own daughter is 14 and if a 35 year old was sniffing around her I would chop off his balls.
Did this man have genuine feelings for me?
Was this man a pedophile?
What do you think after reading my own experience? I think I was looking for a father figure.
Did I put myself in danger because of my own naivety?
This post is an anonymous post written by an inspiring mum who wishes to share her own experience in the hope of helping others. I have full permission to share this story. Why not share your own story?