I was a first class fool in becoming a teacher. Admittedly I was in denial about my sexuality, but there are many reasons why I should have known that it wouldn't work.

I had been a scout leader and a missionary to children, neither of which went particularly well. I was also advised on teaching practice that my principal problem was going to be relationships with other teachers. It seemed to me that people took dislike to me for almost no reason. I can even remember as a student getting a lump of cheese thrown at me across the staff common room.

I didn't know what else I wanted to do. As an undergraduate I wnt through the process of discernment towards ordination in the Church of England. In hindsight I can see that to have been a waste of time. The Church is very good at wasting people's time. It seems to me that people who are ordained are from very privileged backgrounds and either your face fits or it doesn't. My parents were divorced and my mother and step-father ran a public house. Clearly my face did not fit. This did not stop the Church from thinking up a complicated process to give an impression of fairness.

As a missionary working in Canada I had attracted affection (as well as antipathy) and fooled myself into believing that my difficulties could be ironed out by teacher training. I don't think teacher training really trained for anything very much. I ought really to have failed. I passed because of my impressive effort. It would not happen today.

In post, boys teased me absolutely mercilessly. It appeared to me that boys were falling in love with me all over the place. I felt very confused by this. It was a joke that wore very thin in time, but it seemed as though the boys were just not able to control themselves and caused me monumental embarrassment.

There was Alex who asked me to marry him. Toby who called out "I love you, sir" whilst I was taking the register. Darren who wrote me love poetry calling me a "living god". And much more. Have you ever been in a school where almost every boy claimed to be gay or bisexual? If you imagine this as a dream, let me tell you the reality is horrible. I think the boys had an ability to read me better than I could read myself. Some of them spoke of me to their parents in glowing terms, perhaps more so than was judicious, like Robert who repeated each of my lessons to his mother. I attracted a mixture of affection and suspicion from parents. Inwardly I hated the experience but could not pull myself away from it.

I endured absolutely savage criticism from more senior colleagues and was left feeling that I could do nothing right. I might well have been a candidate for suicide.

It did however get me thinking about the minor attraction and the ability of older children to consent to a relationship with an adult. A high proportion of the boys saw themselves as "young friends" of mine although I saw things differently. For example, there was George who invited me to his birthday party and Christopher who wanted me to accompany him to an opera (not that I would imagine it as his taste in music). There was Zach who walked into town with me often, and I was fool enough to let him. There was Nick who told me that the school felt very different after I had left.

I feel that my life has been absolutely ruined. I feel traumatised and bereaved. I feel angry and bitter. I feel confused. I feel that God has set me up to fail in life. I feel hopelessness and despair. I don't go to church any more because I do not feel welcome. In fact, church makes me feel unclean. I feel deparate. I feel as though I am seeking an absolution that will never come. My faith is being severely tested. My despair is aggravated by all of the other problems I've had in life and the fact that I have tried to explain these things to people who don't understand.

It is clear to me that children are ruthless and will literally play with fire. I feel absolutely unloveable, in spite of having saved two people's lives in the recnt past. I feel this way, in spite of distributing food to the homeless and otherwise very poor. I feel emotional pain that I find difficult to describe. Why, oh why, was I born for this? I can see why Jesus asked, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?". I suppose it is true that people don't know what they are doing. I certainly don't.

I guess that reading this, you may be struggling to find answers. Please may I seek your prayers? I don't ask God for anything. The answer tends to be "no" so I don't bother. I suppose prayer isn't really about requests but about enjoying God for what God is. I'm not very good at this.

Anyway, thanks for a long listen!!!!!!!!!!!!