My own struggle with sexual identity
The events that led me to question who I was
(July 24th, 2007 / 4 comments)There is one trouble-making moment that I remember more than any other - a moment that might seem inconsequential these days, but one that set a lot of things in motion for me.
It all started on a camping trip...
It was a Royal Rangers camping trip with a group of boys from church, led by my dad. I was a Buchaneer, part of the youngest Royal Rangers group.
I had become a rather curious kid when it came to sexual matters. I tried to kiss the girls I knew - wished I had someone to play "doctor" with - fantasized about the actresses on TV and older sisters of friends - all the typical "young boy" type activities. For all the curiosity, I knew very little about sex itself and never got anywhere close to actually experiencing it.
My first exposure to any kind of real-life sexuality came during the camping trip. At some point, for a since-forgotten reason, I ended up alone in the woods with a group of maybe four or five other boys my age. One of them was the pastor's son.
I made the suggestion that we should look at each others penises. To my surprise, everyone complied. I then suggested that we should touch each others penises.
There was nothing particularly exciting about any of this, apart from the fact that I knew it wasn't supposed to be happening. I was not allowed to be doing this, so in that way, it was exciting.
The whole thing lasted less than a minute. Since there was no real thrill to it, we all zipped up and went on our way. I assumed it would never be mentioned again and it didn't particularly have any impact on me.
Outed by loose lips
But then, a few weeks later, my parents called me in to "speak with me", which is always a bad sign. One of the boys involved in my little exposure experiment had told his parents about it. Their parents had called my parents. I was outed.
I don't remember much of the conversation. I do know that my parents were a combination of livid, mortified, and heart-broken. My dad, after all, had been the adult supervisor for the camping trip. It didn't help that the pastor's son was part of the group. But, I also don't remember them going haywire on me, which I'm grateful for.
Over the next few weeks, I was required to approach the parents of every boy involved and confess what I had done and apologize for it. It was beyond humiliating.
Fast-forward several years.
A few years later, I was going through adolescence and still getting in trouble now and then for being unruly in structured situations. We had moved to a much more metropolitan area and I was exposed to so many new concepts and lifestyles. I learned about the "gay thing" and was instantly fascinated.
I watched movies with gay themes when my parents weren't home. I started buying only girl's clothing. I did a lot of reading about androgyny and alternative sexualities.
I was often scoffed at for saying that men I saw on TV or out on the streets were "hot". I started growing my hair out and filing my nails and playing with mom's makeup.
I started wishing I looked more like a girl. I tried to change my posture, my facial expressions, my weight. I got flustered when attractive men were around. I got tickled when people asked if I was gay.
The problem was, I wasn't gay.
During all of this, I was chasing after girls. I had several girlfriends, on and off. I was your typical pubescent boyfriend, trying to sneak off to a corner to kiss when no one was looking. I loved girls.
So, why the identity crisis?
I believe it started with that experience in the woods. As a consequence for my childlike curiosity, I was led to believe that I was a homosexual - the most despicable thing on the planet for most of the people I was surrounded by. Only homosexuals would do such a filthy thing. Only homosexuals would ever think another male was attractive. Only homosexuals would wear makeup and girls clothing. Only homosexuals would have body-image issues.
Over the years, I heard so much chatter about what a homosexual was and what homosexuals did. Oddly, very little of it dealt with sexuality. But it was enough to convince me that I was the thing that all of these people hated so much.
After all, I had touched other boy's penises. "That's just gay."
In the end, I had to take a good look at myself, ignoring the innumerable definitions that the world around me had attached to homosexuality. I brushed away all the insecurity and junk these definitions had left on me and asked myself the simple question, "Am I gay?"
I clearly wasn't.
These days, the confusion is gone. I still think some men are hot. Why? Because they are. It doesn't mean I want to be their boyfriend or husband. I still have weight / body-image issues most of the time. I think a lot of people do. I don't wear makeup or paint my nails as much anymore, but I'll only wear girls jeans because I've become accustomed to how they fit and I'm more comfortable in them.
In closing, we should all be mindful and careful about how we generalize the homosexual community, or any other community for that matter. You never know who might be listening or who we might be confusing.
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Thanks for writing about your experience. It was insightful.
Thank you, abcmouse. Good to have you here.
what country are you from daniel
Now I know the truth :) By the way, your blog is pretty cool.