How would I tell my mother? She was so proud that I was to be a priest, and now I was no longer welcome at the White Fathers. I came home ashamed and to a few hundred questions from my mum. I told her I was taking a break from the priesthood and I needed time to be an ordinary person. This did not satisfy my mum. She was manipulating me and tried every trick in the book to get me to confess. At one stage, she told me that she spoke with them and now she knows. I doubt if she did, as then she would really be mad. Then she concluded that I was kicked out. She just did not know why. Whatever she was done, it did not help me.
I tried to go on a religious weekend to see if I would join another order. It is there I met Jonas. He was my age and totally different than me. Besides, I had long hair, looked a bit feminine and looked younger than I was... He acted feminine! He had a high-pitched voice and his hands were all over the place. He never spoke about sports or men's things. He talked about makeup and whatnot. He even wore a bit of eye shadow and convinced me to do the same. No religious order wanted him, and I could understand that. He came into my life at an important time. After being kicked out of the white fathers, I felt like my life was over. I did not think the world needed me. It was the only dream I ever had to be in the religious life and now I was stuck back where I started. Jonas was full of life and knew that people thought he was strange and he knew he would never be in a religious order. However, he had faith that God had a plan and he had the courage.
I didn’t join that order. I decided to believe the world needed me, and I had to open my heart and mind to see what it was. One thing that was important is the sexual abuse I experienced was being more and more suppressed and forgotten. It was a fog in the back of my mind. I read many years later that this is quite normal. An alternative to dealing with something dramatic is either to forget them or convince yourself that they never happened.
So I was back in the town living with my mum and dad. I told Dad that I should apply for unemployment assistance and visit the jobcentre. He said no and there was no discussion. I told him that was the only way I would get a job. It must have been a shame for him that one of his sons will be on social welfare. I was told that I would be working for him.
It took me a few weeks to find out this was not me. My life was going to work at some building site. Using the wheelbarrow all day or lifting things back and forth and cleaning. I asked him at one stage when I would try to actually build, like laying bricks or cementing a wall. The answer was that my little brother was being trained for that, and besides that, I did not have the reflexes. So that night, I sat outside under a tree smoking a cigarette and looking at the stars. This is something I loved to do all my life, as it gave me peace and made me feel like I was part of nature. I tried looking at my future. I would still be pushing wheelbarrows and some labour boy work and have no real trade or qualification. I would have no social life and what is most important, I would not be happy.
The conclusion is I had to get away from home.
I looked at the newspaper every day. I even applied to be a DJ at a club. I put some songs I got from the radio on a tape and sent it. I never got an answer. I think they must have had a good laugh or think that it was a 10-year-old that sent it. I also went to a pilot exam but failed that. I went to Cork for an interview as a security officer. My mum did not like that idea, but I knew it was a short-term thing and it was a stepping stone. Besides that, it was a day of working for my dad. They told me that I did not get the job, which pleased mum.
A few days later, they called me and told me to get to London as fast as possible. Dad did not like it and said it sounded so unprofessional to tell me I did not get a job and then suddenly be told to get there as soon as possible. I could see his point, but at the same time, I had two choices. I could still work with him, and never learn how to be a builder or I could take a chance and go to London.
My dad gave me money so I would go to London. I went by ferry and I remember this was one of the happiest times in my life. I stood and watched the ferry pushed through the waves. There was more and more distance being put between me and my old life. It was like the water was washing my old life.
When I got to London, I was met by one of the bosses. He drove me to the office and then I was given a uniform and told I was to start work the next day. I should go and get some sleep. I would be living in a house with 3 others. The youngest boss whose name was Dave said he would drive me to the house. I was very happy as I really needed some sleep. Dave didn’t drive me straight home; he drove me to his house. He explained he had not seen his girlfriend, and needed to see her as she had to go to work soon. So we went home to him, and I was told to sit on the sofa. For the next 4 hours, I heard Dave and his girlfriend in the room. Let's just say that the bed creaked a lot. I was sitting alone on the sofa and just wanted to go to bed. I could have slept on the sofa, but I would have snored. This is not a great start. I watched some old TV programs dozing off once in a while.
He drove me home and it was a nice house. There were a woman and her boyfriend in one room. She looked like Marilyn Monroe. There was another Irish man sharing my room. His name was Scott. He was a lively man and had a girlfriend that lived in Ireland, so he missed her a lot. I put down my suitcase and started unpacking when Dave told me I could do that later. He asked for a down payment of rent. This gave me some anxiety as it meant I had only a few pounds left for a week. The surprises did not stop there. He told me I would be working that night.
I worked at a closed pub. It had a broken window, so my job was just to sit there. I was alone and tired and hungry. I found out that if I ate some ice cubes a machine-made, it would keep me full. Looking back on it, I do not understand how I ever survived that night. I was told that I would work there another night, so I best get some sleep.
I slept. I also spoke a bit with Scott that enjoyed talking. I told him that I had very little money so it would be a hard week. He told me that young men like me could use my looks and get paid for sex. He knew lots of men that would like to have me in their bed, so he told me how much he would get to set the meetings up. In other words, he was offering to be a pimp. This was another shock since I came to London. When I asked him if I could loan some money, he said he was in the same position as me. He had no money.
I said no to being pimped out. The strange thing was that I forgot all about Kevin and what he did with me. It was like being pimped out was something new.
I had a plan. I would eat a pack of biscuits a day. After paying for transport, that’s what I had the money for. It worked while I was at the pub. Then I was moved to a supermarket. It was a small supermarket in a middle-class suburb. Needless to say, this did not help my hunger, as now was surrounded by food all day.
I lasted a day here and then gave in. I told Scott I would do it once. I also told him it did not mean I was gay, it was just for money. Scott understood and told me he understood, and I would be helping him. He needed money to bring his wife and one-year-old son to London,
I met with a skinny nerdy man. I felt sorry for him that he had to pay for sex. I was also thinking about what would happen if I got caught. What would my parents think? What would happen when one day became the pope? Still looking back at it, nothing was new when I was doing it, but I did not remember Kevin and when he pimped me out.
Now I had money so I could eat. I went to Mcdonalds and ordered a Mac feast. It was the best meal I ever had.
Scott was happy as well and told me I would make a better prostitute than a security guard. He said I looked like a boy dressed for Halloween with the uniform on. I said no to his offer.
The shop was a nice place with very nice people. There were two things I did not like. One was the shop manager that was a grumpy man that was obviously bitter. He had no respect for me and treated me like dirt. The other thing was standing up for 10 hours. It was a nightmare and nothing you ever get used to. There were tricks on how to make it better like walking around the shop or leaning against something. The music did not help, as they played 10 songs over and over again. Maybe this is one reason why I do not like Abba.
The customers were nice at the shop and so were the staff. I spoke most of the time with a girl called Sharon and she quickly became a girlfriend. This made working at the shop fun. She was very beautiful! She had long black hair, a nice face and small and slim. Her best feature was her smile. She was also a dreamer, as she would tell me where we would live and how many children we would have. She had the future planned for us.
She did not know that about once a month, I would let Scott pimp me out. This was also something I tried to forget as soon as it was over. I would buy Sharon a present from the money I got from it thinking it would make me feel better.
Being a security guard was not dangerous. I was never trained for it. It basically meant that I stood there and made people think twice. Around Christmas, I was walking around the shop and letting time pass by when I saw an old woman trying to avoid me. I didn’t think much about this, as security guards made some people feel uneasy. However, I got a glimpse of her putting something in her bag. As she left the shop, I asked her to come back. She was mad and upset but I held my stance. She came back to the shop where the manager told her to go to the office. He gave me a bad look and told me I better be right. I was not all that certain so I spent the next hour in panic for my job. The manager came down and said she stole some chicken and has been arrested. He told me my job was not to catch people but to deter them from stealing… I ruined this woman’s Christmas. I was in shock! I caught a shoplifter and was being told off! I did feel sorry that I ruined her Christmas.
One day I was speaking with the Marilyn Monroe look-alike that lived at the house. She was a good friend. She told me that she knew I was also a prostitute and told me to think about it. I was only 19 and had my life before me. I was cute and looked much younger than 19, so people would use this against me. She told me to concentrate on Sharon, as that was true love. Do not do anything that would screw my mind.
I wrote to an order called the Camilians. They took care of old and sick people. A part of me still wanted to be in a religious order.
Sharon and I went on one date, and this was a disaster. She admitted it was her first date. We went to London and walked around looking at all the attractions. She did not say much. Every time I asked her what she wanted to do, she told me it was up to me. This was a common thing that day. She wanted me to decide everything. Maybe this was a sign from God telling me to join the Camillians. After the date, the relationship between Sharon and I deteriorated. I never broke up with her, I just let things fade. She was confused as she thought I was the one.
I agreed with the Camilians that I would move into old peoples home they had and do some voluntary work.
It was a good time to go, as Scott took over a contract that the security company had. The bosses thought I was involved which was not the case. I would most likely have been fired.
So with 800 pounds in my bank account, I went back to Ireland after 6 months as a security guard.
I was now a volunteer at Saint Camilians nursing home. I had my own room and I ate with the priests and brothers. Compared to the white fathers, I was so happy there, and it is, in fact, one of the happiest times in my life. I was no longer the rebel I was at the White Fathers, I was determined that this would work. The only problem I had was that I was very careful with the other priests. I did not know what to say to them. I wanted them to like me, and in that way, I was so careful when I was around them.
The first man I helped was old and impossible to understand. He complained at the least thing and was often overlooked. So despite he was grumpy, I helped him get up every morning. I took my time when I did this. I talked and talked to him about what was happening in the country and the gossip from the home. In time he became less grumpy and listened to the latest news. I never had a close relationship with him; in fact, I did not like his company all that much. However what sort of caregiver would I be if I did not take care of them that I did not like?
There was an old woman I liked. She was like a grandmother to me. I used to spend hours with her every day. She was bedridden as she lost her legs. So I would help her on the bedpan, and turn her in the bed so she got no sores. Then we would sit and speak. It suited her as she did not have a family that visited her.
I was supposed to be at the home 7 hours a day, but I was there in all my waking hours. I tried to speak to everyone every day. There was an old senile woman that thought I was her son. This was an ethical problem for me if I should let her believe that. The head nurse advised me to, as she was an old woman without visitors. I visited her and talked with her and played along. Once she asked me to help her to the bathroom. I pushed her wheelchair to the bathroom and as I lifted her to the toilet, her leg slipped and hit the wheelchair. She was bleeding badly. I called for a nurse and they took her back to her bed and bandaged her up. The doctor gave her a few stitches. I was devastated and despite the nurses saying it was not my fault, I knew deep down I was. I was so happy being there and thought I was doing a great job. So when this happened it must have been a punishment for my pride. When I was cleaning the bathroom, I found a golden bracelet and put it in my pocket. I was not ready to see her. I felt so bad.
The next day, I rushed to her room and there were nurses surrounding her. She died that night. I clutched the golden bracelet in my pocket and seen them prepare her body. They were putting cotton wool in her bum. This was so strange to see and at the same time, I felt like I killed her. I also felt like I stole her bracelet. It was in my pocket and I was afraid to give it back. I later gave it to my mother.
I did not deal with her death very good, and this was because I was guilty. Another woman was dying a few months after. She had no family so I sat beside her bed. It took several days to die, and it was not a great experience. Her breathing became shallower and it was harder for her, as she gasped for air at times. She put up a fight and I spent all my living hours beside her in silence and praying. I did not want her to die alone. The other nurses told me to take a break. I refused except when I needed some sleep. It was during a break that she died.
Not everything was bad. There was a girl there that was very pretty and she thought I was very cute. She quickly became a girlfriend. This meant that I was spending less time at work and more time visiting her. She was a volunteer in the kitchen, so I spent a lot of time in the kitchen. This, of course, caused a problem, as I was here to be a priest, and yet I had a girlfriend. I was split but decided it was wise to see how this relationship went.
I found out that girls really liked me. It was during a party that was held for the staff that I was surrounded by 4 girls. Of course, my GF was beside me all the time. It made her mum joke that one would think I was a teen idol. I smiled and enjoyed the party until I saw the head of vocations (The priest that was to help me enter the order) looked at me and frowned.
As I said, I was very happy there. I felt like this was the life for me. I was even willing to give up my GF to be a priest. I was happy without sex in my life. Despite this, deep down I was afraid of all my sins. I was after all a male prostitute in England. I did not think about my childhood as this was hidden someplace in my mind. Worse was that I was afraid I was a paedophile. I knew that I could never harm a child. This became a major thought when I used to masturbate to a picture. It was the backside of a naked man and woman; however, there were also two children. I convinced myself that I masturbated to the woman, but was always in doubt. The fear I was a paedophile was big one day when a student priest came into my room and I know he saw this picture.
What was my sexuality? A normal healthy one? Gay? Bisexual or God forbid a paedophile.
The vocation priest said I was not ready to be a priest. He suggested I should go and work like any normal person and use these years to understand the world and gain more respect and self-confidence. I was in tears. This was another refusal in my life dream of serving in the Church.
So what now?
The answer came from the strange boy I met a year before. Jonas told me that he worked in England in a hospital where handicapped lived. He had set up an interview for me. I did not think so much about this and took the ferry once again to England. I was interviewed by an Irish woman and an Italian man. John told me what to say but I decided to be honest with my answers. I got the job.
I now lived in a room in a staff house. The fourth night that I lived there, I felt so lonely. Jonas was doing a shift and I was alone in my little room. Then I was told there was a phone call for me. It was from Scott. I heard I was back in England and he really needed a cute boyish man to please a customer.
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