I am also a victim of child sexual abuse and the fact he is allegeding me of harassment and stalking, by targeting him as a CSA victim is actually very distressing to me.
On two occasions during my childhood, I was a victim of attempted child abduction.
Yes, you read that correctly and it was hard for me to write that sentence.
It's not a memory I like to recollect and share with anyone.
I was 12 years old and walking back from calling on my girlfriend.
A man in his early 20's approached me and asked if I wanted to earn £12 by posting a few envelopes for him.
£12 just happened to be the exact same amount of a chemistry set I had my eyes on for months.
I naively followed the man to the back of a nearby church.
"Where are we going mister?," I remembered asking him.
"It's alright kid, we're not far away."
Keeping a healthy distance and on edge that something wasn't right, the man told me to go through a gate and wait for him.
"What do you mean mister?"
"Just wait for me kid, I'll be a minute and join you."
"What do you mean mister?"
"I just want to play with myself and get ready for you."
"What do you mean mister?"
"You know, play with myself."
"No mister, what do you mean?"
"You know, play with myself," said the man before gesturing with his hand the wanking movement.
It was then that the severity of the situation hit me.
This man wanted me to go behind a closed gate so he can molest me.
I ran for my life and didn't look back.
That was the first time a paedophile tried to abduct me and the experience has scared me ever since.
It happened again while me and two other friends were hanging around at the park.
I was talking with Paul Sutton and his younger sister, when an adult man approached us and asked us to follow him to his home.
Having experienced the first abduction attempt, I immediately saw the danger in the situation and urged both Paul and his sister to run away as fast as possible.
I was congratulated the next day during school assembly for my quick thinking action.
Actually it turned out quite differently.
I remembered the headmaster addressing the school, telling us all to be on our guard because a man had tried to abduct three children from the park the evening before. (He never actually mentioned any names, but I knew he was referring to the incident which I was involved in.)
The headmaster congratulated one of the three (me), for being so quick minded to realise the danger we were in, and to run away from the situation.
I naturally smiled with pride at being congratulated for quick thinking, and knowing that my action prevented a possible child abuse attack.
Another teacher saw me smile and look around in recognition.
"Wipe that smile of your face Taylor, its not a laughing matter and nothing to smurk about."
I was humiliated in front of the whole school.
Both of those occasions pail into insignificance in relation to the time my sister was sexually abused.
We were walking home from the same park in which the man tried to entice myself, Paul and his sister back to his home.
I was with my younger sister (3 years younger), I was about 13.
A 19 year old guy approached us and started talking with us, specifically to my sister.
I told him we couldn't hang out with him because it was dinner time and we had to get home.
He ignored me and kept chatting with my sister, egging her up, making her laugh and keeping her entertained.
I had to insist on him saying goodbye, and that we had to leave.
He wasn't having anything to do with it, even grabbing hold of my sister's arm, after I grabbed her hand to drag her home.
It ended with the 19 year old boy, pinning me to the ground, sitting on my chest and stuffing grass into my mouth, telling me in no uncertain terms that my sister is allowed to stay out with him for as long as she wants.
I remember with horrid clarity, how I ran back home in tears, knowing that I had left me sister alone with a dangerous pervert.
I remember reaching home and explaining to my mother with tears running down my face, that Emma was with an older guy at the park and that I think she's in danger.
I remember mum shouting at me to "go back and get her and bring her back home NOW!"
I remember running back to find my sister sitting alone and in tears.
She had been forced to give the 19 year old boy a blow job.
And then there was the sexual abuse I witnessed and suffered at the hands of our parish priest.
While people argue as to the existence of Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA), there is no denying the existence of Roman Catholic Sexual Abuse (RCSA).
I witnessed with my own eyes a sexual attack on my friend in the same room as me, when Father Ralph wrestled Andy into the floor, rolling around fondling him, while Andy, only a teenager screamed and fought with all his might to escape Father Ralph's sexual assault.
I was at the receiving end of Father Ralph's confessionals when he asked about the sexual activity we had committed with our girlfriends.
And I remember vividly the scandal and anguish to my friend, when the Truth came out that Father Ralph had taken her younger brother on a trip to France with him, where during he was sexually abused.
And I haven't even touched on the further sexual abuse my sister received at the hands of our mother's boyfriend.
Peter from Wales, would often visit us for the weekend and ply my mother with alcohol, and even encourage myself to have a few sips of mother's favourite choice of brandy.
It was only after my mother's death in 2001, that Emma revealed that it was on these weekends that Peter would come into her room and have sex with her, safe in the knowledge that myself and our mother were passed out drunk.
And on top of all this, I haven't even touched on the paedophilia within the family at large.
I don't want to mention it now because my oldest aunty is still alive, and she would be horrified and livid with me, if I started recounting the rumours whispered to me about my grandfather.
I am willing to tell you the child sexually abuse I recieved as a child, unlike those who complain of being a CSA victim, but don't reveal the specific details of his alleged child sexually abuse.
To imply I am homophobic is again, very distressing towards me, and yet another slur against my reputation and character.
One of my only personal memories growing up, was visiting a family friend in hospital, called Simon Fisher, who had been beaten to an inch of his life in a homophobic attack in Brighton.
Simon was a friend of my mother, whom I knew since I was around 10 years old.
He was a lodger in our home. A homosexual who my mother trusted, and how allowed to live in the same home as my sister and I.
The memory of seeing Simon beaten black and blue on the hospital bed, still haunts me now.
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