When I was a child I was introduced to a man, who I called master. His name was always preceded by "master". I looked up to this man, I obeyed him to the best of my ability, but my home life was not great, and I was falling apart emotionally. I got into bad things to take the pain away. I hung out with bad people, wasted time, stopped going to train with my master, because I felt like he wouldn't even want me around. So I sank, deeper and deeper, until I was in a hole with bad people. And eventually I stop answering the bad people, and they left me, and I'm still trying to pick up the pieces.
I trained lots of younglings, never once did I do or even think anything creepy about them, they were my students and I was a good teacher, their joy was my joy, their accomplishment was my accomplishment, I felt good when they succeeded, I felt good when I could see the spark return to their eyes, these kids who came in defeated, thinking yhey were worthless. I tried my hardest to make it clear to them they weren't worthless, and I think I made a difference in a few.