When this claim was first made more than 25 years ago, it was thoroughly investigated by both the Child Sexual Abuse Clinic of the Yale-New Haven Hospital and New York State Child Welfare. They both did so for many months and independently concluded that no molestation had ever taken place. Well, sort of. The Yale-New Haven Hospital concluded that no molestation had ever taken place, but then later a judge threw out that report because it wasn’t credible. But the New York State Child Welfare agency did say there was no credible evidence to support the claim because the alleged molestation took place in Connecticut. But that still counts. And, sure, there was that state’s attorney in Connecticut who said there was probable cause to make the charges, but he didn’t want to further traumatize a small, victimized child.
They still didn’t find evidence, though. Instead, they found it likely a vulnerable child had been coached to tell the story by her angry mother during a contentious breakup. Well, again, not so much during a contentious breakup. The breakup itself happened in early January of 1992, when that angry mother, who I happened to be in a decade long relationship with, discovered photographic evidence that I’d slept with her daughter. A different one. Not my daughter, but my daughter’s sister. And then that crafty, scorned, middle-aged woman spent seven months scheming before forcing my daughter (not my wife daughter) to make those false claims of molestation. You know, the way scorned women do. It’s on account of their age.
Dylan’s older brother Moses has said that he witnessed their mother doing exactly that — relentlessly coaching Dylan, trying to drum into her that her father was a dangerous sexual predator. It seems to have worked — and, sadly, I’m sure Dylan truly believes what she says. So for those keeping score at home, that’s one child (a girl one) who said I molested her, and one child (a boy one) who said an old woman was acting all pissed off and scorned. Who are you going to believe?
But even though the Farrow family (my family? Should I be referring to them as my family? I mean, we haven’t spoken in twenty-five years, but they’re still my children. Is it weird how I’ve seemingly abandoned my children in every conceivable way, even in my terms for them?) is cynically using the opportunity afforded by the Time’s Up movement to repeat this (mostly) discredited allegation, that doesn’t make it any more true today than it was in the past. I never molested my daughter — as all investigations concluded a quarter of a century ago. Except for that one investigation in Connecticut that didn’t conclude there was no evidence, just that proceeding with the case wasn’t in the interest of justice considering the victim’s state. And I guess technically, that investigation into my fitness as a parent did find that I wasn’t, you know, fit to parent. But that didn’t mean they found evidence of molestation. Only evidence that I shouldn’t be allowed to be alone with small children.
But like I said, I never molested my daughter. I only married the daughter of the woman I was in a long-term committed relationship with, and refer to myself as my wife’s ‘father-figure.’ Also I write story after story involving middle-aged men in sexual relationships with teenage girls. And I once said that thing about how I’d be cool with fucking 12-year-olds. Also and, there is that time that I destroyed my children’s lives by dumping their mother so I could marry their sister, didn’t apologize to them about it, and blamed them for our continuing estrangement. And I guess there was that whole thing about how my behavior toward my daughter before the “alleged” molestation was deemed so inappropriate, I was forbidden from being alone with her, and subsequently had my parental rights terminated. But all that’s cool because I’m flat out denying the molestation. So as you could all very much tell, nothing creepy to see here.