OANH

My name is Oanh Ly. My first name is pronounced like “Juan.” But please don’t mistake me for a Latino man. My last name is pronounced like the Chinese name “Lee.” But it’s not spelled like that. And people want to say it like “lye.” But it isn’t. Anyways, I was born in Saigon, survived the South China Sea and came to America as a refugee. They threw my family off the boat and we landed in another big scary place, Texas. But now I live in Los Angeles. And I’m a TV writer. So there.

I see pedophiles. Everywhere. The old man who lives a block away from the elementary school and comes out on his porch when school lets out, he’s suspect. That guy at the playground by himself with the sunglasses on and his hands in his pockets, he’s one. The men who go to Disneyland without children, they’re definitely pedophiles.

Adults who fantasize about kids come in all shapes sizes and combinations. They’re not just men. Like Mary Kay Letourneau, the schoolteacher who had sex with her 14 year old student. There’s that couple that kidnapped Elizabeth Smart out of her own home. Also that couple that abducted Jaycee Dugard and kept her in the backyard for years. Then there’s England’s Rosemary West who along with her husband Fred raped and killed women, even their own daughter.

We’ve all heard about the abuse rampant in the Catholic Church. See my point? A kid isn’t even safe in church or home because pedophiles are everywhere.

There was a time when I didn’t even know the word for this type of person. But now, I know all the terms. Pedophile. Child molester. Child predators. Preferential offenders. Predatory offenders. Sex offenders. An internet predator will identify himself to other pedophiles by using handles like TBL (teenage boy lover) or LBL (little boy lover).

I even know a hebephile is one who likes children on the cusp of puberty, usually ages 11-14. Ephebophiles like post-pubescent children, ages 15-17. I am not making this shit up. Check this one out. Teleiophiles like fully matured people 18 and over. That’s me, and probably you, except when you get drunk in Thailand. Fuckin’ Thailand. That’s a whole other topic. But I digress.

My radar for philes of all persuasions developed the last five years during my time on a TV show about serial killers. Since its premiere, CBS’s Criminal Minds has been a consistent top 20 show. The story ideas are heavily researched, many of them based on FBI case files about serial rapists, murderers and pedophiles.

On the show, we writers had access to inside information on these cases. FBI profilers consulted on our show. I learned things the public doesn’t need to know. I read books from FBI profilers, research papers on the psychology of preferential offenders and too many headline-making newspaper articles about the abduction and murder of children.

The most nightmare-inducing book is what we called “the red book.” Sex-Related Homicide and Death Investigation: Practical and Clinical Perspectives by Vernon J. Geberth.

It comes with colored photos of crime scenes. Do not look at the Jeffrey Dahmer chapter. You’ll never be the same.

Not only do I know the terms involved in these crimes, I know the gory details that made some serial offenders famous.

Just an example of two that stick with me. In Colorado, Duane Morrison walked into a high school with a backpack. He asked for teenage girls by name because he found them on Facebook and stalked them to their school. He found his targets, locked them in a room and did unspeakable things to them. This motherfucker brought guns and sex toys in his backpack.

Albert Fish abducted killed and murdered boys and girls. And he cannibalized them. Cut them up, cooked them and shit. Fucker. And he stuck metal pins up his taint (yes that space in between the family jewels and the dumpster) because he got off on experimenting with pain. Freak.

I know things most women could go their whole lives without knowing.

Most people would call these people scum of the earth, monsters. Maybe pray for 5 minutes alone with them, an axe and a wood chipper. I feel you. But I also learned that most of them are kind of fucked from birth.

There’s something in the way they are hard-wired that attracts them to children. They experienced something during the early developmental stages that formed their preference. That’s why it’s called a “preferential” offender. And unfortunately, you cannot change a person’s sexual preference.

Let me put it this way. I love men. The way they look, feel, the calluses on their hands, their strong arms, hairy chests, stubbly faces, their musky smell. When I see a handsome man, I get excited. Hot. My heart beats a little faster. In my body, there is a chain reaction of chemical and biological sensors that go off. You cannot change this about me. I will not have the same chemical reactions with anything other than a man.

For pedophiles, their body reacts the same way mine does, except it happens when they see children. There is no therapy or rehabilitation that can change that. You can’t change someone’s nature.

It’s hard for me to imagine and stomach how a grown ass adult could be sexually aroused by a child. When you talk to Profilers, they can at least break it down with some behavioral and scientific insight.

What does this mean to someone like me who is thinking about having kids? It means whether they can help it or not, pedophiles target children. And they live everywhere. Even in my neighborhood. Just check out this and this.

You enter your address and it pulls up the registered sex offenders in your area. I was surprised how many little red dots showed up in my hood. There are two who live in walking distance to my house. Makes me want to vomit.

I remember my husband and I went on a walk with my niece and nephew in my neighborhood. A man sat on his porch and waived at the kids. My knee-jerk reaction was to pick the kids up and run off, leaving my husband to go gladiator on that freak’s ass. Where I saw a pedophilic ex-con, the kids probably just saw a friendly neighbor.

How can I have children if I see these monsters are everywhere? I considered my options. I could make headlines as the mom who raised her children in a bubble. Or I could just deal with it.

One of the most valuable things I learned from my time on this show is that I’m not paranoid. If I get the heebie-jeebies from some freakazoid on the street, there’s a reason why. Our Profiler consultant stressed that if your body is telling you something, listen to it. Pay attention to your instincts. If those hairs on the back of your neck stand up, then get the fuck out of the situation. Your body does not lie to you.

This probably sounds like common sense. But you’d be surprised how people react in the presence of danger. It’s because we’re taught to be nice, not to insult or offend. Especially women.

Say a creepy guy sits down right next to you on a bench. You get a weird vibe. You might think, “Maybe I should stay a little bit longer so it’s not so obvious that this dude creeps me out. Leaving immediately would be rude.” That’s how I used to think.

Today, that creepy guy sits down next to me, and you will not see two short legs get up and high tail it out so fast. Because in my head, I’m thinking this guy is a rapist and murderer and I work out with a trainer twice a week so that I can outrun motherfuckers like this. Maybe he is just a nice guy, I’m not sticking around to find out.

Now it’s hard for me not to see pedophiles everywhere. The man who lives by himself who’s just a little too friendly with the neighborhood kids, I keep an eye out on him. Men who drive ice-cream trucks. Don’t trust them. Circus clowns. Keep your children away. Men who live in campers? Call the police. And Halloween? That’s a pedophile’s dream come true. Trick or treating is ruined forever.

Pedophiles live everywhere. But my five years on a serial killer show have taught me valuable lessons. One, if you get the feeling someone wants to hurt you, you’re probably right. Leave. Two, it’s a good idea to do cardio three times a week, not so much for heart health, but so you can outrun rapists. Three, look into the costs of raising children in a bubble. I feel better equipped to be a mom.