A letter to my mother

Back when I was around 15 years old, I had a particularly bad night. Was crying and struggling with suicidal thoughts and everything. So I got myself out of my bed and unto my computer and started writing. With tears dripping unto my teddy bear I started writing a letter to my mom.

Here is that letter:

Hey mom,

I’m here to tell you how I feel Tell you how I’ve been Tell you that I’ve lied Tell you the truth And to tell you that I love you Tell you I worry if you’ll love me after this

When you’ve asked how I’ve been I’ve said I was fine In truth, I’ve been far from fine I’ve been horrible, cried, bit myself, cut myself, thought about killing myself All because I am… depressed.

I’m here to tell you what I think Tell you how my opinions have been trapped in my head Tell you how our beliefs are far from the same Yes, those beliefs

I know you’ve tried to get me to go to church You probably see past my shitty excuses But at church I feel judged, I feel like I can’t be myself At church I have so many objections Please, I still want you to love me after this next line All because I am… an atheist.

I’m here to tell what I am Tell you who my “girlfriend” is Tell you that I’m talking to guys No, I’m not gay, it’s worse

I’ve been this way ever since I was a child About 13, and you know the fucked images I saw I still remember the time we were sitting on the sofa Watching a movie, when you said that you were afraid That you were afraid that I would turn into one of “those” men But, you were wrong.

Well, partially wrong. I will never do the things “those” men do I will however… think, imagine, fantasize about what “those” men do

Please, I don’t want you to hate me Remember when we were at the children psychratric We were gonna have a meeting about what she reported When I asked you to go, so I could talk to her alone You said, “No matter what, I will still love you” I, really hope that you will Because I am… a pedophile.

I’m scared now Tell me what you think, please Tell me as soon as possible Tell me that you still love me Know that wanting to do something is not the same as doing something Doing what “those” men do is horrible

But, I can’t change myself I can’t change myself to not like… children Please Still love me

Kindest regards, your youngest son

While I've not given the letter to my mom, I hope that the letter being public can somehow help a person struggling with their sexual thoughts, or even to help give muggles a better perspective of the struggles pedophiles can face.