Since I can’t speak for anyone else, I will speak for myself.
At age thirteen, I fell into bad company. I discovered booze, marijuana, and worked very hard at discovering tawdry sex. It would be a couple more years before I actually managed this, but not for lack of trying.
At age fourteen, I was quite sure I knew better than my parents did in regards booze, drugs, sex, and so forth.
At fifteen, I got a driver’s license and became pretty much a raving rampaging zoo animal. At least, most fathers of fifteen-year-old girls would have thought so, and now, having raised a teenage daughter myself, I would be inclined to agree with them.
Anyone who’s read any of the weird-assed tales of my youth I’ve posted here from time to time has a general idea of what I mean. If you AREN’T, then run a search using my username, as well as the words ASS, WATERMELON, WATERBED, CONVERTIBLE, DILDO, JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES, BEER, ALLIGATOR, EXPLOSIVE, KRAZY GLUE, and CHICKEN… and you will have but the barest glimpse into the depravity and madness that was my gleefully misspent youth.
And I am here to tell you, right goddamn now, WHY there are laws about this sort of thing on the books. They’re there to protect YOU from ME.
Or, rather, to protect YOUR daughters from guys LIKE me. Or like the guy I was when I was a teener, anyway.
I never got busted. I never went to jail. I never got anyone pregnant. I was a GOOD kid, in my own eyes… and I was quite careful. At least, as careful as I knew how to be.
Years later, I look back at the young man I was, and I seriously wonder how in ghod’s name I made it out alive. Or at least without having to pay any heavy dues. Friends of mine from that time frame weren’t so lucky – a couple are dead, one’s a burnout, a couple got AIDS, and three others wound up with surprise children.
I wasn’t really any smarter than any of those guys and gals. I was a combination of careful…
…and smart…
…but most of all, LUCKY. And while luck is a peachy thing, depending on it will ultimately result in Bad Things Happening. Particularly when you’re playing for high stakes.
…but I was young, and I was too smart for my own good. I was smart enough to realize how dumb all the adults were, and I did as I pleased…
…while making sure nobody ever found out. Nobody who could lay any kind of consequences on me, anyway.
Why are there laws about sex and minors? After all, who’s to say a fourteen-year-old isn’t equipped to make the right decisions? Who’s to say he’s not emotionally mature enough to manage it?
Nobody, really. At least, not the folks who don’t KNOW him. But he’s not going INTO this alone. He’s presumably planning on having sex WITH someone, yes? And this doubles the chances of SOMEONE screwing it all up… and resulting in consequences of some kind.
…and this is why we have the laws. Are they fair? No. Not really. Quite a few laws aren’t fair. To this day, I have yet to figure out how the government forcing me to pay taxes so THEY can give MY money to SOMEONE ELSE is fair.
It ain’t. But then, that’s life. The best you can hope for is parity. And if you don’t like the damn laws, then grow the hell up, go into politics, and change them (or become insanely wealthy, buy some politicians, and have them change the laws FOR you.)
At least this way, we have some sort of handle on the fourteen year olds who would merrily begin breeding, right there in someone else’s bed.
Sure, the parents might well have handled this one themselves. As they are RESPONSIBLE for the children, one might consider that they have AUTHORITY over them, as well.
But sometimes, that ain’t an option. At fourteen, I was still pretty nervous about my old man, because if it came down to it, I was fairly sure he could still f*ck me up, if he really had to. And I was quite certain he’d throw me out on my ear if I really got seriously out of line.
Did it stop me? No. But I was sure as hell a lot more careful about not getting caught, and about cleaning up my messes afterward, so to speak. And he did not take a swing at me, nor did he pitch me out. He paid for a good chunk of my college education, in fact, as well as for at least three major beer blasts and one lost weekend, but we won’t tell him about that, now, will we?
…but in this day and age, not all parents have that kind of power or authority… or even INFLUENCE… over their kids. I have known entirely too many parents whose kids (or teachers) have dropped a word in Child Protective Services’ ears, and have suddenly found themselves being interrogated by well meaning but stern social workers.
Kids WILL do that. Seen it lots of times. And it certainly does make one think twice or three times about using any kind of force on the little bastards, I’m told.
And if one hesitates to use force… and your fourteen-year-old spits in your face and says, “I’ll do as I like, and you won’t stop me,” … well… what the hell ARE you supposed to do?
…and that’s where it becomes a matter of law.