I want to know what my life would have been like if that hadn’t happened. I feel like it changed everything about me.

1988, Little Rock, Arkansas: When I was 10, 25 years ago, I kissed my first boy. His name was Ryan, he made me weak in the knees when he kissed me, and he told all the boys during 5th grade football practice that we had sex. My best friend believed Ryan, not me. A boy named Judson, also a fifth-grader, corroborated Ryan’s lie . He looked me right in the eyes, this boy did, and kept smugly repeating “I saw you, I saw you do it,” as I got more red-faced and kept screaming “No you didn’t! Why are you lying?! Why are you doing this?” 
In 8th grade, it happened again, with a different boy. I have always wondered why I was picked to be lied about. Other girls kissed boys in 5th grade. Other girls did things too, didn’t they? I still don’t know why these boys lied about it. And I really don’t understand why people believed them, why it was so easy to believe such blatant lies about me. 
I want to know what my life would have been like if that hadn’t happened. I feel like it changed everything about me.