With the arrival of the computer and the Internet there has been an explosion in the production, distribution and consumption of pornography, much of it child pornography. A single Investigation by the FBI in America revealed that more than 250,000 people worldwide had used credit cards to view images of naked children on just one internet website. Many people still hold the opinion that looking at such pictures isn’t really harmful, but I know from experience that a child can suffer great guilt, shame and fear from knowing that anyone, anywhere, at any time, can be looking at pictures of his or her body for sexual gratification or as a means of persuading other children to do something similar.
I was an innocent 10-year-old when I asked my mother, ‘Where do babies come from?’ She replied. ‘Under the gooseberry bush.’ Of course, I didn’t believe this, so I persisted. ‘How are babies made?’ ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older,’ was all she said. If she’d taken only a moment to explain, I would have known better and perhaps the events that followed soon afterwards might never have happened.
My best friend was allowed to go alone to play on the swings in a nearby park, but, without an adult, I wasn’t. My mother warned, ‘There are too many strangers about.’
As she was always very busy and my father worked until evening every day, I asked my retired uncle, who lived next door and had lots of spare time to take me. He was only too happy to go.
When he realised I collected beads, he invited me into his flat to show me his late wife’s jewellery. He still had all her clothes, which were quite exquisite, like film stars wore.
I asked if I could play my favourite game, ‘dressing up’. I told him I wanted to be a model when I grew up, so he suggested we play ‘models’. Using fashion magazines that he had lying around for poses, and in front of an old empty camera of his, I copied the poses while he pretended to shoot photos. Things were fine.
Then he showed me a different sort of magazine. The models wore few or no clothes. I’d never before seen a naked woman and was somewhat shocked. Exploiting my childish ambitions of which he was by then aware, he told me that this was how women earn big money – much more for taking clothes off than for putting them on – and suggested we play a game of ‘nude models’.
As I thought that women would not do such a thing if it were in any way wrong, I decided there could be no harm in it. I enjoyed playing the game for a number of days until I wandered into his kitchen and caught him performing a lurid, demeaning act as he held a photo of me in a provocative pose.
The realisation that he’d taken real photos and that what I’d done must have caused him to do what he was doing hit me hard and I froze in severe shock.
As I rushed out in panic to get my clothes, he called a threat after me, ‘If you tell anyone what you’ve done, you’ll be put away.’
These words filled me with dread, for I was certain I deserved severe punishment for doing something I should never have done. I dressed quickly then ran home, thankful that my mother was out. Sobbing uncontrollably, I ran upstairs and hid my body, of which I was now so ashamed, under the bed covers.
Now I knew why my uncle was so pleased to take me to the swings; why he invited me into his flat; why he kept those magazines lying around; why we played those games.
On the other hand, numerous questions with no answers filled my mind: What was he doing? Why was he doing it? Why didn’t I know better than to do what I did? Was it because my mother didn’t answer my questions? Why did she warn me only about strangers? Why didn’t she tell me what it was I had to beware of? Will my uncle sell the photos to magazines so men everywhere will be able to see them? What if somebody recognises me? Will they want to take their own photos? What other things might they want to do? Will they try to abduct me and keep me hidden? How could I stop them doing whatever they wanted whenever they wanted? How could I ever play with my friends again? How could I ever go out of my house again? How could I ever be a normal girl again?
Riddled with guilt and shame and immobilised by fear, I suffered a mental and physical breakdown. I couldn’t eat or sleep. All I could do was cry and worry. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t my fault – but my uncle hadn’t forced me to do anything, so it had to be my fault. I needed someone to talk to but didn’t dare because I was petrified that my parents would find out and my uncle’s words would come true. Desperate to look different from the girl in the photos I self-harmed my face and body.
Deeply worried about the catastrophic changes in me, my mother called the doctor who prescribed various medications, but they were never going to make me better. I loathed myself and, aware that I could never forget what I’d done or forgive myself, I wished I were dead and contemplated suicide.
School was horrendous. Many days I didn’t go. As the months passed, my fears continued and I became afraid I’d go mad – until the day I discovered a religious programme on the radio, which I thereafter listened to. The words of hope gave me the strength to realise that I had to force my mind away from my fears. It was difficult, but gradually I became able to do simple tasks and enjoy my favourite television programmes as I used to. Progress was very slow, but eventually I was able to do more complex tasks and concentrate on lessons and homework. But I still remained afraid to go out of my house for fear of being recognised.
As I grew up, the girls around me became proud of their developing bodies but I didn’t want to look like the women in the magazines and went to great lengths to avoid doing so. All the other girls talked about boys, getting married and having babies. I didn’t want anything to do with men.
Eventually I got a job. Going to work caused many worries but being away from my uncle made me feel much better. One day a colleague asked me on a date. I was extremely hesitant, but accepted because I longed to have a friend and yearned to be normal. I felt safe with him and enjoyed his company. Before long he began to talk of marriage. This frightened me because there was no way I could cope with the duties of a wife. I told him that I didn’t want to get married until I was older. I hoped that by then I might be able to cope.
It took me more than two years before I felt able to marry him. On my wedding night I cried myself to sleep because I’d planned to tell him why I couldn’t show my love in the way a lover should. But I didn’t, because I was afraid that he would leave me.
I was not a great housewife but I was happy – until the day I found a pile of pornographic magazines under our bed. I was horrified.
All of my suppressed fears resurfaced and new ones arose: Was my husband using them to excite himself as my uncle had done? Had my lack of interest in sex caused him to want them? Was he hoping I wouldn’t find them – or was he hoping I would?
I told him I wanted him to throw them away. He refused, saying it was normal for men to look at such magazines. Our relationship deteriorated. I didn’t want to live with him any more, but I felt I had to stay because I didn’t think I would be able to cope with life on my own.
We struggled on unhappily until, on a visit to Amsterdam, I came face to face with my worst fear – child porn magazines openly for sale. I froze in shock once again as I worried that my photos could be in them. Instantly, my world collapsed and I succumbed to a second breakdown. My husband wanted to know what was wrong. Finally I told him.
He listened sympathetically and assured me that none of it was my fault. With this unburdening came enormous relief. I became able to cope with life again and my husband and I had the child he’d always wanted
Looking back on my experience I still wish that my mother had answered my questions when I was young. I wish she’d told me about sex and sexual appetites. If she had, I might have known better than to do what I did, and I wouldn’t have suffered years of fears, some of which still continue as, even now, the photos may be circulating on the Internet.
I’m now in my mid-50s but the fears and feelings I experienced as a 10-year-old child still haunt and hurt me. I’m horrified that more and more children are becoming victims.
Child pornography is out of control. Measures are being taken against it, and significant international co-operation has caught thousands inside porn rings in Britain, Australia and the US. But more needs to be done.
Parents definitely need to be aware of this problem. As a parent there is much you can do to protect your children.
Explain the ‘birds and bees’ to your children from as early an age as possible, using the proper names for the body parts of both sexes with information relative to age. Answer any questions simply and honestly with no old wives’ tales about storks or gooseberry bushes.
Teach your children general safety rules in a way that will inform without frightening or confusing them. Children need to know that if they’re approached by someone they don’t know, they should always come and talk to you first before agreeing to do anything or go anywhere. Be specific; you can teach your children what constitutes appropriate and inappropriate behaviour by adults.
Sad though it may seem, it is a wise parent who explains to their children that not all adults can be trusted. If you can build a bond of trust with your own children, involving open, honest communication, your children will be more likely to consult you if they meet a decision – or a person – they are unsure about.
Ensure that your children are aware of the pitfalls of the Internet. Help them to understand that all may not be as it appears – Terry the 12-year-old skateboarder might, in reality, be Henry the 43-year-old paedophile. Install protective software on your home computer that will filter out unsuitable material, and teach your children Internet and mobile phone safety rules.
Take time to talk with, and listen to, your children. Watch out for visible or sudden changes in their behaviour. Problems with eating or sleeping, or mood swings, or even advanced sexual knowledge could be signs of abuse.
I have read a lot about child pornography and it would appear that my fears and feelings are those of many victims. As many may be too afraid to say anything, we can play a part in protecting the innocent by our vigilance and awareness.
If you suspect a child might be suffering from sexual abuse or that a man or woman may be an abuser, talk about your concerns to someone you trust. It could save the child from further abuse and stop the abuser going on to harm other children. You can contact your local police force or social services department or telephone the NSPCC’s free 24-hour Helpline on: 0808 800 5000 or visit their website at www.talktilitstops.org.uk, which comprises a virtual online community whose members can provide confidential advice and information on all types of child abuse.
by Sylvia Macpherson.
There are numerous organisations that provide help, advice, and support on various aspects of child pornography/child sexual abuse for victims, their families and the abusers, some of which are listed below.
National Childrens’ Bureau, 8 Wakley Street, London EC1V 7QE. Tel: 0207 843 1901 Website: www.ncb.org.uk/sef
With the arrival of the computer and the Internet there has been an explosion in the production, distribution and consumption of pornography, much of it child pornography. A single Investigation by the FBI in America revealed that more than 250,000 people worldwide had used credit cards to view images of naked children on just one internet website. Many people still hold the opinion that looking at such pictures isn’t really harmful, but I know from experience that a child can suffer great guilt, shame and fear from knowing that anyone, anywhere, at any time, can be looking at pictures of his or her body for sexual gratification or as a means of persuading other children to do something similar. 
