Coming out to myself

The first step of coming out of the closest is coming to terms with ones own homosexuality. For me, a logical thinker, this process took some years and a lot of research, interviews and theories. Ok, yes, to the surprise of a lot of my friends, I’m sort of a geek. I do need things to be in black and white.

When I look back on my childhood, the signs were always there. I was into fashion, hated to be dirty for any reason, hands stayed on my hips which were propped to the side like a model posing on the runway and the fact that my double-sided poster of Janet and Michael Jackson was turned to the side with Michael on it. I was gay but at the time I thought I was just different. During this time I knew I was attracted to boys more than girls, but thought this was normal. Thought my attraction was merely childhood curiosity and it would go away. I wasn’t gay because I didn’t switch or women’s clothing.

During my last two years of elementary school I knew something was wrong. I was still looking at the other boys. I enjoyed them running up and down the basketball court, watching them dripping with sweat and battling in the post for positioning more than I enjoyed playing with them. I would look at their butts when they walked by, even set up accidental run ins that allowed me to brush up against their butts (yea I was a mess back then too). The other boys, who to my knowledge are all heterosexual, used to play around and dry hump one another. Ok, actually they would all gang hump one particular boy. Secretly, I wished one of them would pay attention to me, wished the boy everyone else was humping would get tired of being abused and want to secretly be with me. But these feelings were wrong, they weren’t “normal.”

High school came and nothing really changed for me. I was still experiencing the same feelings and still up to the same tricks. I was able to put a name to these feelings. During a sociology/psychology class I learned that I was having homosexual thoughts. I wasn’t the only one who had these feelings, there were others like me. Now the harsh reality that many people did not accept homosexuality began to hit me. Was something wrong with me because I had thoughts of being romantically linked to another male? I didn’t share my feelings with anyone else, tried to deny I had any romantic feelings for anyone. I still looked at the boys in the locker room, still enjoyed the basketball games but I knew that would be it. I knew there were other people out there that had similar feelings as me, but the only thing I knew of these people were that they were feminine and occasionally dressed in women’s clothing.

It was in college I came to terms with who I am. I met Charlotte. Charlotte was a lesbian and open about her sexuality. Charlotte was comfortable with who she was and knew a lot about homosexuality. I sat up for hours talking to Charlotte about being gay and how and when she knew she was gay. Charlotte and I became good friends. One day she asked me was I gay. I didn’t know, as much as she informed me of the gay lifestyle and I had met some of her male friends (who were gay), I still didn’t identify with being gay. So I told her the truth, I wasn’t sure. I told her about my feelings but also explained to her that I had no desire to be feminine or dress in women’s clothing. Then something happened one night. I’m sure she had nothing to do with it, because later when I told her she was genuinely shocked. A friend of mine was going through a tough time and one of his girlfriends (yes he had more than one) asked me to spend the night with him, to watch him. I wasn’t doing anything and would have ended up sleeping in my dorm room alone so I agreed. He asked if I would sit on his bed next to him until he fell asleep, no problem. Problem! I fell asleep. I woke up to something crawling up my leg. I kept my eyes closed because I wanted to see where things would go. Suddenly something warm was around my penis. I felt this warm feeling up and down, up and down. I decided to join in and placed my hand down my friend’s pants and began to go up and down on him. I ejaculated for the first time knowingly and despite this being my first time, I was old enough to know what was going on. My friend said he was just curious and we never talked about this again.

Now I was really confused, but would soon come to realize that I would enjoy the intimate contact with another male. I called another one of my friend’s over to spend the morning with me. Neither of us had early class and I really didn’t feel like being in my room alone this morning. My friend as far as I knew only liked female. I knew he had a girlfriend on and off campus and messed around with several girls on campus. When he came over he said if he was going to sleep in my room he wasn’t going to sleep alone. He jumped in the bed with me and I honestly didn’t see a problem with 2 guys sharing a twin bed. He slept with his back toward me. During the short time we shared in my bed he kept pushing back. I had morning wood (at least that’s what I told myself) and when he finally touched me he felt me. “Is that a roll of quarters or are you really happy for me to be here?” he asked. He put his hand down my pants and took my penis out. Without asking any questions he slid down and began sucking my dick. I didn’t ask any question and this “affair” continued throughout college.

After these two experiences I began to research the internet, read books and talk to people online about being gay. I read everything, positive and negative. I was beginning to realize that I was a gay male. It wasn’t until I read E. Lynn Harris’ book, Invisible Life, did I really accept who I was. I was a gay male but now I knew that that didn’t mean I had to be feminine, didn’t mean I had to give up being a MAN. I called Charlotte and for the first time I confessed, “I’m gay.” She was proud that I made this step. After doing like 2 months of research and finally coming to grips with who I am, you would think a burden was lifted and I should have felt relieved. I didn’t feel anything. I was still the same person. But I still had one question that needed to be answered.

What made me homosexual? Most of the stories I heard or read about dealt with some childhood molestation. Had I been molested at a young age and just forgotten? I tried hard to remember, asked questions about my childhood without telling my family members what I was looking for. I wasn’t molested. No one took advantage of me, there was no babysitter making me suck him off or eat her out. There was no uncle that made me sit on his lap. My father was in the picture and lived with us, so this was no cry for the attention of a male figure that I didn’t have. I always kept to myself so I doubt if I was socialized this way because I hung out with my sisters. I came to the conclusion that I was born this way. I couldn’t find a reason in my environment that would cause me to want to be intimate with a man, so I had to be born this way. I turned 19 years old and finally I was comfortable with being a gay male. I’m a man who likes the company of other men. I’m a man that dates other men. I’m a MAN.