Chronical of my life


One of the first memories I have is of biking through the forest with my father. I was sitting in a bike seat, attached to the handlebar, so I can’t have been older than three years old. I remember it was warm, where it was exactly and that I felt happy. Not the most interesting thing in my life but that’s where my memory happens to start. The spring of 1997, probably.
It’s mostly the warm days I remember. Playing on the beach, my first day at preschool and playing with other children, and the nights. Seeing things in patterns and being scared of monsters under my bed or in the closet. Playing house, cops and robbers, and Mega Man. I loved physical contact with other boys.
As long as I can remember sexuality has been part of my life. I remember as a 4- or 5-year-old already trying to get peers to expose themselves and doing so myself whenever given the opportunity. I wasn’t interested in sharing my experiences with adults.
My first sex dream, that I remember, was of Jimmy Neutron. Which I find interesting to remember because of how flawed it was. It was about penetration but the movement was more mechanical than natural. I had sexual fantasies about Mega Man too but I don’t remember that being part of the games we played. Most memories I have of dreams are from being lost, hunted or attacked.
I still wonder what it was that made me so scared so often. I tried to analyze my own psychology for a major part of my life. Trying to figure out why I had certain thoughts and feelings and how far I could push them. That way I did figure out the flaws in modern believes of psychology. It took me years to reject it, but nowadays I’m firmly against current western psychological treatments.
I did like playing naked games and trying to wrestle naked. Given the opportunity during playing, I’d find a way to pull out my penis. The boys I played with never seemed to mind, some would join me.
At some point I even got caught by an adult, who luckily just didn’t want to deal with it and ignored it. But not much later a girl would catch me too and shame me for it. At this point nudity and sexuality became something scary, something I felt like I had to hide.
It didn’t stop me but it did change me. Whenever I was alone with boys I still played those games with them and the older I got as a preteen, the more they’d become ‘dares’. The secrecy made it more exciting to an extent. But it had lost its innocence.
I was given a private computer in my room with an ADSL internet connection when I was about six. Videogames and the internet where a great part of my life. Playing the first RuneScape, online chatrooms and MSN. The start of the golden age for information and communication. I tried to learn everything I could, things I wasn’t supposed to know, just for the sake of knowledge.
Games were one thing but it also helped me to gain information. I very quickly figured out how to masturbate by hand instead of using a stuffed animal or a pillow.
I was however very confused about orgasms and it led to much frustration. Not until I started producing sperm, I realized that I had orgasms. Dry orgasms had felt like a frustration. I did not understand why my body wouldn’t let me continue masturbating and wasn’t even sure I enjoyed the feeling of what actually was an orgasm. I don’t think I’ve been able to let this go completely to this day.
With an internet connection and the still common clothing catalogs with underwear and lingerie, it didn’t take me long to figure out I did not feel an attraction towards women. I was however confused about my feelings towards men.
While I didn’t feel the same aversion towards men as I did to women, they still didn’t feel right. I knew what it felt like to feel sexually excited and men weren’t it either. I started looking at drawings and cartoons. It felt better, but still rather empty.
I liked school when I was particularly young. But when I was about 7, I started to be aware of the fact that I was different and things weren’t the way I liked them to be. At that time, I already knew what I found most important in life: pleasure and an absence of suffering. I didn’t care much for material things or prestige. I wanted to spend time with friends and feel good, nothing else.
Art was an important outlet for my feelings, a distraction of life. Making art was always very special to me. I loved museums. Only when I finally saw Van Gogh, I was sorely disappointed. I found inspiration in surrealism, expressionism and abstract art. Searching for meaning out of pure curiosity, I kept believing that there wasn’t any
One day I had conversation with one of my brothers, both are significantly older. He told me he wasn’t sure if there was anything after death, if there was a god or meaning to life. It was part of my realization that age and ability to think weren’t linked. Such a basic question to life seemed so important to him and something that had only crossed his mind recently. I questioned the given reasoning for the hierarchy between different generations.
Religion has helped with this realization a lot. You’re told that you need to respect your elders and that with time comes experience and thus wisdom. The reality however is that this seldom seemed the case. Most adults just seemed stupid. Often they lacked basic logic and their reasoning often was their age. They claimed to have define wisdom by saying “because I’m an adult”. I could never really accept or respect that.
But it took me until I was an adult myself to realize how little difference there is between children and adults. To be certain that being an adult isn’t really anything different than being a child.
I had become somewhat fat. My family was rather accepting of being of a bigger size and gluttony was considered normal. But soon, I got into sports. I started taking up cycling, volleyball and rowing. I very quickly got in shape and sports became an important part of my life.
Volleyball was a lot of fun and there was one boy, a little younger than me, that especially drew my attention. He was very cute. While we were in the toilets, between two games of a tournament, he saw me using the urinals. His parents had teached him to sit down to pee and he asked me to teach him. He dropped his pants to the floor and pulled up his shirt. I hadn’t seen a boy his age naked since I was that age myself. It was one of the hottest things I had ever seen. We were both very comfortable with each other. I didn’t tell him he didn’t have to undress to use the urinals. He was cute, funny and very sexy.
I loved building, going out to play in the summer, climbing threes and playing in the tall grass. I was constantly surrounded by boys and going on adventures. But most of the time it was just very relaxing, playing make believe, strolling around the forest and catching frogs in the so common draining ditches around my town.
While I always liked just hanging out, even alone, I could never wait to play with other boys. I grew incredibly strong friendships from a very young age. My best friend from preschool would move away very quickly, but we’d remain friends our entire childhood. Others that moved or would later go to different schools I lost contact with, they’d change a lot and eventually only the memory of our childhood friendship would remain.
It wasn’t until I was hanging out with two boys, I was about eight, I learned for certain that I was actually gay. I had snatched a catalog and given it to the boys. We started looking at the lingerie page and the boys turned red, excited and giggling. I couldn’t keep my attention on the magazine. I was very excited as well and couldn’t keep my eyes of the aroused boys.
It always was a very special and warm feeling. I always had a group of friends, but our friendships grew strongest one on one. We’d trust each other deeply and would have very special feelings towards each other. Having felt this intimate with so many boys are memories I’ll always cherish.
The joy and awareness of knowing I was gay got away from me quickly. I was hit by the most confusion in my entire life and had no-one to share it with. Nor would I ever speak of it for a decade.
I was nine years old and my class was told to watch over a class of way younger children. I was mixed up with a boy of four years old. I asked him to sit with me and started to cuddle him. I initially thought these were parental feelings. But they weren’t, it was sexual attraction.
He felt amazing. Warm, inviting and what I can now describe as sexy. He was so cute and had such a nice body. I couldn’t help but hold and touch him.
Another boy, my age, saw what happened. He asked me what I was doing and started laughing. I froze up and realized the a-normality of what I was doing. I instantly realized what I was actually feeling. I felt embarrassed, a weirdo, a monster.
The event scared and worried me so much, that soon after I actually hung myself from a rope. I couldn’t actually finish it because as I dangled, I climbed back up a table. I was very fortunate to survive and eventually get over it.
I initially repressed those memories. I never wanted it to happen again and forget that it happened. I denied to myself that I had felt that. Told myself it would change as I got older.
Marilyn Manson’s music and videos soon made me feel like it was great to be different, to be a freak. It helped me to recognize and accept the fact I was different. The first time I saw “The Beautiful People” it was one of the most interesting pieces of art I had ever seen. His cover to “Get My Rocks Off” by Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show had the text made me realize I wasn’t alone in desiring gratification and boys.
As I got older, I’d more and more often seek comfort in darker music and art. Listening to metal and shock rock, it was a way to deal with my emotions. To understand and express my confusion.

My teens

My attention again was towards my peers and boys slightly younger. When I was around twelve years old, they didn’t give me enough of what I desired. Probably caused by getting in a new school with older boys and having to act more mature, whatever that means. Like almost every boy I wanted change as I got older. No more make believe. But I did still want physical contact and I started looking for boys online.
One of the first people that reached out to me wasn’t a boy. It was a man. He was very open about his intention and his interest in boys. It was the first contact I ever had with someone who had the same feelings as me. I was extremely curious and agreed to meet with him.
He was about 60 years old and rather fat. This wasn’t exactly something new for him, that much was clear. We went bowling in my town and a girl friend of mine mistook him for my father. I was glad I wasn’t caught and found it strangely funny and exiting. After we went to McDonald’s and I had a chocolate milkshake. I remember everything of that day.
On the way back in the car he put his hand on my lap and told me, in way too many words, that he wanted to suck me off. I told him I felt flattered but that I wasn’t interested. He replied I wasn’t really that much of a price anyway. Which made me realize how selfish his reasons were and how different his feelings towards boys were.
I always cared for boys. I wanted to know everything about them and feel every feeling with them. I cared deeply and the closer I got the bigger my desire to be physical with them would grow. It was emotional and the man seemed to either not feel that or have lost that feeling with age. Now I realize he’d seen the downfall of our people. He was probably broken inside.
But I couldn’t really care less about his feelings at that time. He didn’t realize it, but I was using him even more than he tried with me. I wanted information, I wanted to know how my future would look like. I wanted to know what it was like to be one of us. He didn’t really give me any of the answers I sought, but enough tools to start looking for them.
Just before he left, he gave me a few gifts. Among which was a DVD with what he called “boys playing ping-pong”. I knew immediately what he meant. That night I popped it in my DVD-player. It contained an assortment of boys all ages. Especially the SpongeBob video drew my attention. I realized what I liked and realized what I was. That came with self-acknowledgement what at that point was comforting. But soon enough, it just became another struggle and even more confusing.

I decided I didn’t want to live a double-life, or more accurately, a triple-life. I accepted my feminine side and started dressing provocatively. I wore tons of pink, tight jeans, scarfs and even started walking differently. The question got asked soon. Are you gay? At which I would more or less sarcastically would say “How can you tell?”.
I started dating and meeting up with boys online. I was sexting and doing webcam sex and meeting up with tons of boys for sex. In the meanwhile I started getting into Shotacon and online sexual roleplaying. I remember it as very comforting to be able to talk and share with these other young teens that had the same feelings as me. To explore and discus sexuality together. We’d play out relationships and sex, often with age differences.

But there was a triple life. Yes, I was openly gay for the most part, but my relationships and sex-life were mostly hidden. Besides that, there were the other feelings and my questions about how this would influence adulthood.
Having had a computer since I was six and growing up in a family with an interest in IT, I was skilled with computer technology. I had build my own PC and knew quite a lot about software and the web. I soon learned to navigate to parts of the web that most people don’t know how to access.
I wanted information. Information about politics, about religion and knowledge about my future. I wanted the tools to deal with it, because I did realize it was going to be though. I started learning about surviving, about hiding, about improvised weapons. The future looked grim.
Eventually that got worse as I ran into something called The Pedophile Handbook. Because of current ridiculous laws existing against it around the world I can’t get into everything. But to me the original version was rather damaging. I had often heard of Dutroux, who I had never identified with in the slightest,
I had never dared question others, or adults, about such cases. Their feelings didn’t seem to differ from the most terrible events I had heard in my life. The first major world event I remember is the 9-11 attacks on the United States of America. The disbelieve and terror on peoples faces as the southern tower was hit is something I will always remember. But the event was also a moment I realized you couldn’t always express a thirst for answers on the question why.
The murder on Dutch politician Fortuyn is also one such event I remember. I knew who he was and grew up in a family that was worried or scared about his influence and charisma. I think the murder was experienced as shocking and a relief at the same time.
The Pedophile Handbook described a grim future for me. The thought of having to live in secrecy and fear all my life didn’t leave me for a long time. It made me feel that because of the way society portrays me and childhood sexuality I was forced to live in secrecy, quite possibly go of the grid.
I was sure I wanted boys in my life and feared that getting too close would inevitably lead to my incarceration. Making it my future to lie and cheat. Have fleeing sexual relationships and people go in and out of my life quickly. It wasn’t what I desired.
What I wanted was what I had always wanted; a simple life of comfort and enjoyment. Hanging out with boys, doing fun things, eating good food and having sex.
But I was certain that wasn’t going to happen. It was going to be way more selfish. It was a property I didn’t recognize in myself. I had always been kind and loving. Was that going to go away?
My earlier political ideals, like that of so many, were very much on the political left. The first political movement I ever became an official member of was the Dutch communist youth movement. I was 14 at the time.
When I first wanted to enlist, people warned me about communists: They’d be very intolerant. I was advised to ask many questions about how they’d view minorities. Like LGBT people and the handicap. Of course, the guy I met with found the questioning very confusing. The Dutch Communists were indeed also socially very leftist. They weren’t only part of the squatter movement and the anti-fascists, but also ‘Refugees Welcome’, feminist groups, LGBT groups, et cetera.
Strangely enough I had no questions at all about economics. I had always grown up with the idea to support and strengthen the working class and share wealth. I was disappointment in the classic left labor party which had been sharing the reigns with the Christian democratic party and the liberal democratic party.
At this point in my life we had just got hit by the 2008 Global Financial Crisis. For me it felt like capitalism was collapsing and private ownership of real estate finally proved itself to be harming the economy and not supporting me.
It was my believe we needed a more radical movement. We needed change. I believed we needed to get rid of private property. What good had richness done the world? It seemed to only create more diversion, more classism. I felt it was time to get rid of the rich.
The economy had collapsed because of the greed of capitalists. Always wanting more stuff, more property. They collapsed on top of the working class. People were laid of left and right. Not being able to pay their mortgage anymore they’d be forced to sell their house while the real estate market had just collapsed.
Being evicted out of his simple family home in a cul-de-sac neighborhood. It didn’t feel fair that simple minded working Joe had to suffer over something he had no influence over. He probably had no concept of how things worked and what risk he’d been taking. How could he? The banks didn’t even get it.
I think I believed it was capitalism and the free market which was to blame for classism and oppression of the masses. My experience being with big corporations corrupting governments and oppressing the lower class. Man is naturally greedy and it was the construct of capitalism that made man able to exploit others.
At that time I was familiar with works of Marx, Mao and Trotsky. Finding especially the wordings of the quotations of Mao pleasing. Communism and socialism felt like an ideology and environment of sharing, loving and tolerance. But soon I realized that it wasn’t about reaching unity, it was about reaching uniformity. Especially the work of Mao made me realize this.
I gained a boyfriend which distracted me from the fears for my future. I had had a complete mental breakdown which was suddenly gone once my focus and attention had gone completely into this relationship. I finally had a fun and good-looking boy who I hung out with almost every day, talked to, do fun things with and had sex with.
But inside I was toxic. It was a temporary fix that one day would be gone. I couldn’t work on my future because I felt like there was nothing to build towards. Just something completely broken. I lived in that moment, but that moment didn’t last forever.
After he broke up with me, which I now think was for the best, I felt lost and scared. At first I just filled the void with random sexual encounters and drinking. Something I would do for many years to distract myself from my problems. But rather soon I got into my head. Fear and confusion deluded my reality. I became paranoid and lived in constant fear.
I saw myself and what happened around the world as one thing. I was aware of my delusions and checked myself into a mental hospital. The people that had started to surround me at that point were toxic and deluded themselves. Checking myself in got me away from them and helped me enter a new chapter of my life. Which in itself was a completely new long hard road.
I met two boys. Both at that point completely broken. I had fallen for both of them and as I always did, I became focused on them rather than me. With one of them the drinking started. We didn’t want to feel anymore. We did crazy things and were both self-destructive. His father enabled us in this behavior since he was more or less the same.
He was a couple of years younger than me and we grew a strong friendship that eventually got sexual. I was confused, broken and started to smoke weed. I didn’t know how to deal with it and with the intensity of all of his emotions. Eventually I rejected his requests for intimacy, but I wasn’t able to talk with him about it. I didn’t understand it myself.
He told his father about our intimate relationship in search of help how to restore it. The boy in question didn’t identify as gay and therefor immediately thought, combined with the age difference, that it was abusive. Police were called, friends got involved and even the church.
The boy was able to eventually tell his father about the true nature and his feelings about the relationship. He didn’t hate me, he liked what had happened. His father asked me over to talk things over, he told me he wasn’t angry anymore, said it was experimentation.
When I went over to the house I was confronted with an absurd situation. My friend was in the corner, completely silent and there were multiple men in the living-room. One by one they started talking about how they were abused by priests, one of the men now being a priest himself.
I listened to all their stories, one by one. My friend didn’t respond to it at all and it was most painful seeing him in this situation. The stories had nothing to do with me, with us. After they all left, we had a drink. It had broken us. I never really spoke to him afterwards. I deeply cared for him and it was broken by others.
I started hanging out with a different crowd. Seeking distraction in movies and videogames. We often hung out outside, even in the cold and the rain. Smoking weed, sometimes doing meth. Among them were addicts and thieves. We’d forget about the past, the future and just lived in the now.
Hard drugs didn’t really get to me, and I did hallucinogens with different friends. Friends who were hippies, with whom I talked about society and music. At multiple occasions these hallucinogens were helping me process things, they helped me develop.
The weed and the meth, and the MDMA the other guys used were destructive. We got into fights with each other, getting frustrated with where we were. Nobody knew how to pass on from that situation. Until eventually one guy decided to take a lot of MDMA and jump of a building, that was pretty much the end of that.
The Amsterdam Child Sex Case confronted me with what I thought and what I feared I had become. It was in a way how I expected my future to become. The reporting around it and the overall shock were terrifying. I went into a deep state of fear and depression.
I had again fallen in love with a young boy. I met him on the street and started hanging out some. At this point the age difference was just so big people started to take notice. But how could me help myself? He was funny, cute and super-hot. A friend of me told me, “I think you’re a pedophile.”, I knew he was right. It had been the first time anyone had ever said it. That made it very real and not just something in my head.
My self-destructive behavior grew worse for a while. One night finding myself being sucked of by a guy in his 40s. He’d been buying me drinks all nights, talking about his family, his kids. I was done with hating myself, done with trying to destroy myself. Done with hiding.
I had been told by multiple people that I needed to get help. I tried multiple organizations and eventually met up with the people from Stop It Now. I had 75 conversations of an hour with two psychologists there. One conversation I remember best is rather early in. The psychologist, a woman, told me if her five-year-old was able to choose what he wanted for dinner, he’d eat himself sick with ice-cream.
I told her she was wrong. First of all because if he would choose ice-cream it would be because she, and the industries, had made him addicted to sugar. So it wouldn’t so much be a free choice as an addiction. Second, why have people so much ice-cream available that they can get themselves sick of it? Adults can’t deal with this fact either. Third, if you explained to him why he shouldn’t eat all the ice-cream, he’d probably take your advice. Fourth, if he in fact did choose ice-cream and get sick of it, he probably wouldn’t do it again and would have actually learned something. And finally, sex is enjoyable, why wouldn’t he be able to identify whether or not he’d like it. If he liked being touched certain ways or what felt enjoyable.
We had a same discussion about pictures. She told me the pictures from New Star I showed her where legal and the explanation of the chairman Jules Mulder confirmed this. She said she wouldn’t have liked if pictures that were made from her as a child would now be used for sexual gratification. I explained to her that this is because she’s psychologically conditioned to feel this way and that it hadn’t come naturally.
She was never able to have a real argument. She stated commonly held believes as facts, and that is about everything anyone has ever been able to do. They’re simply wrong.

Young Adult

Like many, online activism was how I started out. Writing out what I felt and thought. Talking to people who where just death wrong. But I wasn’t just an activist to express myself. I have always desired change, a different and kinder world.
Soon I got invited, and invited myself, to seminars and debates. The first seminar I want to was at the University of Amsterdam. In a room of 250 students I was able to open up about my feelings and thoughts. A moment of liberation and realization the complexity of the politics of commonly held believes. I was met with applause and praise.
I found myself in an intellectual bubble that wasn’t afraid of taboos. That day I also met someone who’d be an enormous intellectual stimulator to me till this day. In the months and years after I would more and more surround myself with intellectuals and freethinkers. It has always been a place where I could let my thoughts mature, question myself and the world around me.
It was however a bubble and I was very much aware it wasn’t them I needed to convince. I needed to convince the public. So in July 2015, I was getting interviewed by a Dutch public broadcaster after I replied to a request for a pedophile.
I had to go into make-up for four hours before they started recording. One scene I remember, that they eventually cut out, was me talking about the main cause of trauma: Societies believe in harmful sex and foist trauma. The entire time I was explaining the woman who interviewed me just shook her head and said no. She had no argument, as would be the case every time I had that conversation.
Later they explained me, when I was reviewing the final edit, that they choose to cut it out because they didn’t want to air a stereotype. Initially I was relieved but eventually I grew to load it. They had made me into someone who was just frustrated and they forgot to show that I was also angry. I said that I wouldn’t have sex with a child because I couldn’t protect them from society, that much was true. They silenced me when I said society needed to change.
They didn’t try to stop me from being a stereotype, they made me into one. Just a more recent version of the pedophile. Which is rather annoying because nowadays people say I changed since those days. But the reality is that I didn’t change at all, just the depiction of me changed. As my influence within the little community grew and people where looking more and more at me instead of the virtuous pedophile groups I needed to be gotten rid of.
At that time everyone was very friendly towards me. But I was aware that this friendliness was really just a political strategy. To reel me in to their side and moderate my statements. To an extend it worked, although I’m rather sure my progress wouldn’t have differed much without having my boots licked by people from the forensic psychologist organization’s and the virtuous pedo groups. But I was very politically correct most of the time and choose my words carefully.
The small steps approach felt like the wisest thing to do at the time. But the progress was extremely slow and extremely little. There was no real influence. We were constantly distracted by the tinniest little pieces of influence, only to be ignored in the end. In reality it was not the virtuous groups that where influencing others, it where others influencing and controlling them.
Attention stayed on me for a while after I went on tv. The amount of student interviews grew extensively, there where a couple of interviews, even from the UK and talks of bigger projects like books and documentaries. Most of it, like always, got cancelled. Eventually I got tired of the interviews and the interviewers got tired of me. I decided to quit.

Quickly after I found a new way to fill my need to work on a ‘better world’, one with financial benefits. I got a job at the sales department of the Dutch federation of workers unions (FNV). But this job became more for me. I wanted to grow within a new group and started networking very quickly. I wanted my department to do better, but also strengthen several movements within the organization. When I wasn’t working while getting paid I was working on a different project within the organization or at a networking reception, there where a lot of receptions.
I drew a lot of attention to myself some positive, but others where just purely envious or worried about having to work harder themselves. The department was a joke, giving away memberships for free or even giving away gifts. There was no attention to outflow and there where no consequences to this poor management. I’m pretty sure after I left the department manager Christian de Boer got promoted and the department afterwards completely reorganized.
Honestly the moment they called me in the office, to fire me, I was already working hard to change departments. I had only been working there for 5 months, but it was extremely frustrating to see people just being there for their fat paychecks, not caring about the actual work or the organization.
Christian de Boer called me into the office just after I called in sick, from being overstressed. I had said my computer and phone, that I used for work had broken down. He said he wanted to talk about that together with Martin van de Veen from HR.
At the meeting without saying anything they put a tablet in front of me with my TV appearance for the public broadcasting station. After a few minutes I turned it off and asked them what was going on. They told me I was being put on inactive. I got extremely angry with them and told them that the meeting was illegal, because I had a right to be informed beforehand and that discrimination was illegal. I told them it wasn’t over and stormed out.

I protested twice and started a legal battle with the human rights council. They initially refused to pay me, but eventually realized they had to. There were a ton of meetings and different council meetings about it. I filled complaints against multiple people for intimidation and discrimination. The councils however where biased. Internally I lost everything and with the human rights council I only won on one account that had no influence. The human rights council concluded that my alleged sexual orientation made me a danger at work.
Apparently, discrimination against me was legal. It had surprised me deeply that I was recognized in the then two-year-old tv program and suspected foul play by the government. Having established that, it was completely pointless to search for another job.
I had been in 4 hearings, been to dozen meetings, protested twice and had fought legal battles for a year, writing countless letters and arguments. I was tired.
In December 2017 a group of Frisian nationalists had blocked a highway to stop a group of activists against Black Pete from protesting at the national arrival of Saint Nicholas. I had thought about joining them but had decided not to because I was babysitting. Something I obviously preferred to do than protesting in the cold winter. Although had I gone that day, I possibly just had joint the event because of all the children present.
The mayor had decided to forbid the demonstration because due to the blockage the protesters would arrive too late. A week later there was a new protest against the ban of the protest the week before. This time I joined the protest. Because primarily because I wanted to defend the right to protest, but also because I agree Black Pete is a racist phenomenon and the government should stop funding it. There where over 50 police riot vans present and dozens of police horses.
In 2018 I restarted the pedo- and child-liberation activism. Not knowing what to do I primarily worked on networking within the community. At the 2018 Amsterdam Pride Canal Parade I had met up with three other pedo’s to discuss our ideas. During the meet I went of to do a leaflet drop on the parade boat of the human rights council. Afterwards we discussed working on a manifest, which never happened, and other activisms in the future. One guy present, now one of my best friends, said that 2020 would be the year it would all happen.
In December I joined the protests against Black Pete once more, this time in the village of Hilversum. There where multiple protest around the country that year, they were al met with violence from fascist groups, including the one in Hilversum. The moment the Saint Nicolas parade was supposed to pass by our protest, the police suddenly made it go of route. Moments later we were attacked by people from a Nazi organization.
It rained rocks, eggs and apples. The police put up blockage between us and the Nazi’s and evacuated us through an alley way. The police cleared the streets and afterwards moved us into the police station until they could evacuate us to another town by bus.
At the other town we split up in a couple of groups traveling in different directions. I eventually was traveling alone with one member from antifa. We were followed of the train by a man who then tried to attack the guy from antifa, apparently I was too big. I stopped the man from physically assaulting him and stepped in between us. He continued scolding and threatening us while we walked by hundreds of people. Nobody said a thing.
That where the only two protests against Black Pete that I joined. I support their right to protest and I believe Black Pete is racist. I however differ from opinion with the organization’s behind the protests. I’m not in favor of criminalizing Black Pete or racism. The government shouldn’t be funding it, but what private people do, believe and say is up to them.
People have a right to be racist. Private people and organization should be allowed to use blackface. That means those are terrible people and they have a right to be terrible.

In 2019 I started the Kinderbevrijdingsfront (Child Liberation Front). I was hoping to use it as a platform to get myself and other people more visible as real-world activists. I first started building on Twitter focusing on the right to self-determination in the broadest term. I asked people to join me and started planning protests.
In march I joined the first protest, on my own, during the annual International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination protest. I initially was there to meet a guy who had been threatening me online. He was a no-show. I put a live video online from the protest and tweeted about it. Soon after it got picked up by Dutch tv program Jensen. With that I had received visibility.
The tweets from my twitter account were perceived as provocative. I talked about hanging out with a 5-year-old boy, staying up late, playing video games and eating pizza, and about how I was attracted to him. With a joke here or there, people, including the police, claimed I had implied I had a sexual relationship with him. While I clearly said I wanted, but that we couldn’t.
Later, in 2020, I received a police report in which they try to identify him. This is one thing that makes me especially angry. Police fascists, in this case Michel Meijers, trying to forbid pedophiles from having any contact with children at all. Criminalizing even socializing and friendships. There are no words to express how much I hate these people.
Even though I described the boy as looking like Wade Robson in the investigation they suspect a Scandinavian boy from being him. It also tells a lot they didn’t notice the ratio of the pictures of that boy 1 by 1.

Pride Amsterdam 2019

After a minor protest at Pride Amsterdam 2018 I found it was time to do something bigger. With a few other activists we had discussed activism during the Amsterdam Pride Parade.
I tried to move others to join in protest. On the third om May I send the organization an e-mail requesting to discuss a way to inform during the week-long event. I requested to inform about the intertwining of the LGBT+ and pedo+ community up until the, then 25 year ago, ILGA expulsion of NAMBLA and Martijn association.
Different than what people believed my intention and believes was, it wasn’t about becoming a part of the current movement. It was an attempt to inform about a shared and forgotten history.
Naïve as I am, I had hoped for a slight opening to at least discuss my proposal. If they did, even if they had eventually rejected me, it would have never become this big.
Instead I got the usual uninformed abhorrence: I was called a criminal, with no place in Pride or society.

Pride walk

My request to the human rights council to reach a conclusion, on wither or not I had been discriminated against, before Pride Amsterdam 2019 started was not met. Therefor I needed a new plan.
In the months before there had been more than a dozen people who said they wanted to join me at the Pride event. But as resistance of the Pride organization grew, less and less people were willing to join me. Eventually a few weeks before the event almost nobody dared to come, most found it too dangerous.
My goal had completely changed. It was no longer about informing; it had become about visibility and discrimination. I made a leaflet talking about love, people and about inclusion. About being able to exist. Up until this day I don’t think many people actually listened to my message. It seems incredibly distorted.
It’s still talked about in relation to me. They say it’s the moment I completely radicalized and that here I promoted sex with children. The reality however is that it never was about sex.

I decided to prove we should not be scared. I went to Pride Walk, an earlier event, instead of the Pride Parade to show everyone what would happen.
I first went to the gathering at the homo-monument and listened to the speakers who talked about the right for everyone to love who they love. Hearing these words struck me and reinforced my conviction.
I positioned myself on the route in front of the end point of the Pride Walk and once they arrived handed out about 100 leaflets. In the meantime Pride Walk organizer Hans Verhoeven, who had earlier stated on Facebook he’d stop me by force, came at me and tried to stop me. I refused.
Then the security, hired by Pride Amsterdam, carried out a civil arrest and brought me to the police, about 10 meters down the road. So far only one person had shouted something at me, yet the police said the public order had been disturbed. They confiscated the leaflets and I left.

The media later talked about threats of physical aggression. Nothing like that happened. And by the time it hit the news I was already on the beach, enjoying a cocktail.

Human Rights council

On the first of October 2019 the case between me, representing the Child Liberation Front, and the Amsterdam Gay Pride foundation got trialed by hearing. The result did not surprise me and neither did that the committee didn’t reply to the most important parts of my plea.
Maybe I was naïve enough to believe I was going to be proven right by the council. My plea, both in writing and during the hearing, was spot on.
But I had lost a case before. In front of the same jury, even though the defending party had congratulated me and themselves believed I was most likely going to win.
I had experience, preparation and even help from professionals. The only thing I lacked was momentum.
I plead for discrimination on the grounds of ‘homo- and heterosexual orientation’, ‘political believe’ and ‘life philosophy’. The first one being the most important and having the most solid plea.
“Chronophilia are an inherent part of homosexual or heterosexual orientation. - Nepiophilia, pedophilia, hebephilia, ephebophilia, teleiophilia, (mesophilia and) gerontophilia are all part of the homo- and / or heterosexual orientation of each individual that experiences sexual attraction. Without chronophilic attraction in the individual, there is no homo and / or heterosexual orientation.
In particular, nepiophilia, pedophilia, and hebephilia on one end of the spectrum and gerontophilia on the other end, fall under the definition of queer, sexual minority and thus truly belong in the community Pride Amsterdam claims to represent.”
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Nelson Nelson
Published on 19 March 2021.
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Chronological event-to-event description of my life from 1997 to 2019. Originally used as a preperation for a biographic series. But since I have no intention to finish that, I{ll just drop this here. Should be, because of it's intention to just represent facts, a boring read.

You can still find me on Twitter Nelson4PM and email me at
Nelson Maatman, Kinderbevrijdingsfront, PedoPride, Youth, Sexuality, Childhood
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