When I was a teenager, it was inconceivable to me that I was gay. It took me being in college and reading some books, seeing some gay porn, and eventually exploring the internet before I realized that: Yes, I am gay. When I look back now, it seems crazy that I did not know I was gay. I had “crushes” on guys. I admired good looking guys. Hell, I even masturbated to guys at night when I was alone in my bedroom. How did I not realize I was gay when I only really fantasized and dreamed about guys? It was never women. I dated girls and even had sex with a few, but it was guys that I to whom I felt any kind of attraction.
Looking back, I bought fitness magazines and International Male catalogs. I told myself that I wanted to look like those guys. I wanted to have their physiques, even though I never have achieved that. I still told myself that I admired their bodies, but that I wasn’t attracted to them. Even with the guys I had fantasies about (and thought about being naked with them and doing sexual things with them), it never occurred to me that I might want a boyfriend or that I was gay. No, I told myself that I liked the way they looked, and I wanted to look like them.
Obviously, I was deluding myself because I was always taught that the worst thing to be was a “faggot.” That’s how the bullies tortured me. They called me a “faggot,” “fag,” or “sissy.” I was so scared I was one, that I could not let myself believe that I was one. I was taught it was something wrong and dirty. God, how they fucked us up!
Anyway, I’m curious. For those of you who did not come out early in life, who came out in college or later, what did you tell yourself about your attraction to guys? How did you justify to yourself that you were “straight” yet had an attraction to guys? I was so far in denial that I deluded myself into thinking it was just the admiration for guy’s physiques. What was your reasoning?
11 comments:
I lied to myself a lot, which is the real damaging part of the closet.
That worked until I kissed a guy who enthusiastically kissed back. It happened at a party during my senior year in college.
It was a "well, d'uh" moment I couldn't dodge.
I was born in 1950 so living a gay life wasn't very in the «mood» and Catholic Church didn't help as we were then very attentive to our religion.
At 5yo, I already that I was attracted to other boys and the friends I was choosing were cute ones according to my childhood eyes.
I was always looking to good looking guys in movies and my first crush in my teens was Steve McQueen for his nice body and face.
When in College (17-19yo) I was more and more attracted to some of my fellow students and being in the water polo and swimming team made me more and more interested in nice men.
But, again, in 1969-71, gay life wasn't easy and less accepted.
I could have a first kiss and sex with one of my friend then but I was too shy to accept his insisting offers.
Then came university times (1971-74) and I was surrounded by my happy 5 friends group but even if «Pierre» was a cute blond guy and artist like I was, never I could tell him I had a crush on him and his cute little bubble butt.
After our university, on summer 1974 he invited me to visit him at his parents house and we went at their cabin in the woods and went canooing on the lake. On an island we layed down and talked but never there was any close approaches.
I've always wondered if he maybe had same feelings toward me as I had for him.
1975-76 I went teaching in Sudbury and I was in love with a cute ginger man, Laurent, who was a music teacher at my high school. I was then bisexuual in my feelings and was having sex with a girl, Ginette, and Laurent too did share her with me.
We manage to move together in an house, Ginette, Laurent and his wife and me.
I tried to have sex with Laurent but Ginette who always knew I was attracted to men, told me that Laurent wasn't interested even if every morning we were in the bathroom, naked all of three of us.
Then I moved far away to teach arts in Sept îles (1975-84) and never could find a man to kiss or whatever. So I met Lise who became my wife. We had 3 kids from our marriage of 1977.
Then what had to happen, happened, after 22 years of marriage we divorced in 1999.
But since 1992 at 41yo I began to meet men with a online phone site and after I discovered gay saunas and was more and more incline to like sex with other men.
Since my divorce in 1999, I can now live freely my real nature of a gay men.
I had 4 long term gay relationships.
Since 2012 I'm single but I have no more hope to find a good husband for me as I'm now 71yo and sadly, gay men don't like mature men like me.
What is contradictory is that here in Montreal, having a gay life is mainstream and very well accepted but the gay scene which makes pride in liking the «diversity» is excluding mature and old men.
My advice would be that if you're in your 40s, find a real lover and stick to him because after 55-60yo it'll be very hard to find a soulmate.
This story could become a long one, but I shall try to keep it brief. I was born just before WWII in a small rural town. The idea of being homosexual wasn't even a topic of thought, let alone conversation. By the time I was a teenager in the 50's, I found myself attracted to the rebels and the rock-n-roll idols of the time in tight jeans and slicked backed hair. Yet, the idea of being "gay" was never talked about and there was no information available, certainly not like today. Even Kinsey was not publicly available yet and my parents had divorced. I was living with grandparents who were fundamental religiously oriented and the guilt piled on at every step whenever I ventured to be different.
I was the first to go to college from my family and that was a cultural awakening, but even there the discussion of sexuality was closeted in the late 50's. Macarthy ruled, platonic Greek philosophy colored literary thought, and coded messages encoded theater and movies. I was not so much in denial as in ignorance.
Eventually, believing that one was supposedly to outgrow the adolescent stage of playing with boys (rather like the Greek youths and their mentors), I married. We eventually had two sons. The desire for men grew over the years, however. But I did not wish to leave my wife unsupported or the children uneducated. At one point, i met another married man and had a long term affair.
Once the children were out of college and I was retired, and with the consent of my wife, we separated. I came out of the closet with difficult repercussions (since healed after many years). I met other men, traveled the world with companions, and sort of made up for lost time. It's been quite a journey. Perhaps I should write a book. :-) Forgive the length of this, Joe.
Taurusd2, I think a collection of these stories from various generations would make an excellent book and study of gay men. If anyone is interested, I’d love to collaborate on putting a book together. With that being said, I have seen a lot of similarities to my experiences in responses from both this site and my back-up Wordpress site. The idea of growing out of it is one I think many of us had thoughts about. When I came out to my parents, my father told me, “I should have taught you how to fight the urges.” It’s never been a statement I fully understood and my father is not someone who would elaborate on what he meant. He also told me that if my grandmother ever found out, she’d never forgive me. He never specified which grandmother, but I suspected it was his mother who I was really close to.
I too was in denial - for over 30 years. Told myself that I was straight, and that if I thought straight, acted straight, told other people I was straight and believed I was straight, then I would eventually become straight. The old "fake it till you make it" philosophy. Never worked. Also tried the "pray away the gay" method, and that didn't work either. I got married (to a woman) thinking that would "fix the problem." It didn't. Believe me, I told myself all kinds of lies - until the whole charade collapsed when I saw "Brokeback Mountain" in 2007. I have written my own 360-page autobiography, available online for free, but I won't post the link here out of respect to Joe and his blog.
When I was in high school, I thought I wanted to be friends with the guys I had crushes on. In the spring of my junior year, a chance rmark from a friend suddenly opened my eyes to the fact that I was not heterosexual.
*chance remark
David, you are more than welcome to post a link to your autobiography in the comments. I would not find it disrespectful at all. I love people sharing their own stories.
I could have written most of your story about my experiences with denial and repression. I often wonder how different my life would have been had I come to terms with my sexuality much earlier in my life.
My experience was much more recent than some of the lovely stories that I have enjoyed reading above. I have often read stories from other men, who knew they were gay during childhood, and I have wondered why I was not more aware of my own sexuality.
Like one other commenter, I was more in ignorance than in denial. I was raised in a strict, sheltered, Pentecostal household. I knew that "gay" was a bad thing. I knew that preachers preached against it. I knew that we ignorant kids would call each other "gay" as an insult, because it was about the most devastating thing that we can think of to call each other, but I didn't know it meant same sex attraction. So, I had no idea I was gay. In fact, I did not know that same sex attraction was wrong until I learned it was synonymous with "gay."
Growing up, I did not know any men who were openly interested in other men, nor did I know other women who were openly interested in other women. I would later discover that I do have several gay cousins. But, I never felt shame about being attracted to other boys. It was natural to me. I assumed every boy found other boys attractive, longed for other boys' attention, and was turned on by the thought of other boys.
For some reason, I was curious and decided to look up what it meant to be gay when I was 14 years old. I landed on Wikipedia. When I read the description, I was devastated. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach and -- from that moment on -- I felt excruciating shame about my own same sex attraction. I would begin a years-long journey of attempting to change my sexuality, including entering conversion counseling on my own free will and against the knowledge of my parents, who I was not out of the closet to yet, who love and accept me despite my belief otherwise when I was younger.
Now, I look back and think how ignorant I must have been. My life is better now and I am mostly not ashamed to be gay anymore.
Lee
Lee, we all have our stories of coming to terms with our sexuality. When I was in high school, the internet barely existed, and we certainly didn't have it. We barely had a computer. I remember checking out the book "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" from the public library when I was in high school. It was a very popular book at the time. When I realized it was about one gay man killing a male prostitute he had hired, I was horrified that someone would know I read the book and think I was gay. I immediately returned it. It was a very silly delusion because my name was on the card in the back of the book (this was back when you still signed the card in the back of the book to check it out). Anyone else who checked it out would still see my name even though I rushed to return the book.
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