PREYED UPON
My teacher abused me aged 14 – he was jailed 20 years later after I showed cops receipts for underwear he’d bought me
Mark Lindrud even lied about his age to Stephanie
AT 14, Stephanie Langlitz was groomed by her school teacher.
Now 36, she shares how fighting for justice helped her to heal.
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"Finding old teenage photos can be emotional.
You might cringe at your terrible haircut or think of that friend you haven’t seen in years.
But when I look at myself at 14, my heart aches.
I see someone isolated and confused – a girl keeping a terrible secret and convincing herself that everything is fine.
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And right there by my side is my boyfriend, teacher and abuser.
In the summer of 2002, I was 14 and struggling.
I had been bullied at school in Arizona, USA, and when my first boyfriend cheated on me, I was devastated.
Home life was also really hard.
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My older brother and sister had left home, and our parents had split up then reconciled, leaving me feeling like life could change at any moment.
I was vulnerable, sad and lonely.
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Starting high school that August felt like a fresh start.
It was exciting to be in a different building, with new children and teachers.
From the very first lesson, Mark Lindrud, my Spanish teacher, stood out.
He told us he was 26, and so only 12 years older than we were.
He was approachable and chatty, and everyone liked him.
Each day, the school opened early for students who wanted to do homework, and a few weeks into term I walked into Mr Lindrud’s classroom to study.
We had a quick chat before I settled down to work, but after a few days he offered me his computer to use.
In lessons, he treated me like any other student.
But in that time before school, he paid me extra attention and it made me feel special.
One evening, I sent Mr Lindrud a message about my Spanish homework and he instantly replied.
Soon, chatty messages were flying back and forth between us.
Then in October, he suggested meeting up after school. Uncertain, I suggested a park near my house.
At 7pm, after telling my parents I was going to meet a friend, I nervously walked over.
It was still light and the park was busy, but he embraced and kissed me.
I froze, completely blindsided.
He wrapped my legs around him and carried me across to a bench where he put his hands up my shirt and down my shorts.
My body and brain just shut down.
I mumbled something about needing to go home and left.
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I didn’t know that I’d just been assaulted.
In my shock and confusion, I thought what had happened meant he really liked me.
And not wanting either of us to get into trouble, I didn’t tell anyone.
In class the following day, he acted as if nothing had happened, but that evening he messaged asking to see me.
Soon we were meeting up regularly out of school.
I was both flattered and scared. I withdrew from the few friends I had and would lie to my parents about where I was going.
My whole world became about Mark.
That December, I turned 15, and the next month Mark persuaded me to have sex.
I thought I was in love with him.
That’s when he called me his girlfriend for the first time.
It was so confusing to be with my “boyfriend” Mark in a parked car in the evening, then spend Spanish lessons pretending Mr Lindrud was nothing more than my teacher.
Desperate to share what was happening, I told a friend we were dating. She just looked at me in horror.
A few days later, I was called into a meeting at school and directly asked: “Are you having a relationship with a teacher?”
I immediately said I wasn’t. Terrified, I told them that my friend was jealous and had made it up.
I said the same to my parents when they arrived. I found out later that they’d asked Mark, who’d also denied it.
We were believed, but that didn’t stop the rumours and I became even more isolated.
When the academic year ended that May, Mark left the school, spooked by the rumours that never died down.
But our relationship continued and he started introducing me to his friends and parents as his “19-year-old girlfriend”.
I went along with it, manipulated by him that this was the only way for us to be together.
But then in March 2004, when I was 16, I was at Mark’s house alone and saw his birth certificate.
Reading it, I stood there in shock.
He hadn’t been 26 when we’d met like he’d said – he’d been 30, which made him 16 years older than I was.
When Mark returned home, I confronted him.
He began crying hysterically, saying he loved me and wanted us to get married.
I just looked at him and thought how pathetic he was. I ended the relationship there and then.
I still didn’t realise that what I’d been through was abuse.
It was only in 2017, when I was 29 and a single mum to my three-year-old son, that I started having therapy after a relationship broke down.
I mentioned to my therapist that I’d had a relationship with a teacher when I was 14.
When she explained she’d have to report it because I’d been a minor, I was shocked, but the police never ended up contacting me, so I didn’t take it any further.
However, a few years later, I was putting my son to bed, when I suddenly thought of Mark and decided to look him up online.
When I saw that he was still teaching, I felt sick to my stomach.
I immediately emailed the headteacher of his school, telling him what had happened to me.
I was scared as I hit send, but absolutely determined.
The head replied, asking if I had reported it.
I said I hadn’t, but I was about to and that I just needed to mentally prepare for it.
He went ahead and contacted the police though, who then reached out to me.
When a detective got in touch, I was incredibly nervous, knowing that there was no going back.
Luckily, I’d kept photos of Mark and me together, receipts for underwear he’d bought me and tickets from our cinema dates.
Looking at the charges he’d be facing – sexual conduct with a minor and sexual abuse of a minor – it was the first time I truly understood that he had sexually abused me.
The legal process was long and emotional, but the police and victim’s advocate were amazing.
In June 2022, I testified in court. I’d been a mess for days, in such a panic that I thought I might die.
Then, as I spoke, a calm came over me. I looked right at him, wanting him to know that I understood what he’d done to me.
Only afterwards did I break down in tears.
Hearing him convicted of 20 counts of sexual conduct with a minor and one count of sexual abuse of a minor, I was in disbelief.
The jury had believed me. He was sentenced to 66 years in prison.
Despite my happiness that it was over, I cried for my 14-year-old self, devastated at what she had to go through.
I’m still healing, but I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I ever thought possible.
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What happened to me two decades ago no longer defines me. In telling the truth I’ve found my peace."
For advice and support around grooming and child exploitation, visit
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