The last time I talked about sex was when I worked for The State Press, and I received death threats and got in trouble by the student newspaper and know now President Crow knows my name, and doesn’t like me. Thank god my editor, Ben, had balls and stuck up for me. Way to go Ben. My career would have ended there if you hadn’t.
So, begin this one, I must say, this is not – at least it better not – going to get me death threats. Rather, today’s/tonight’s post is really going to address the complexity, or attempt to anyway, of sexuality, specifically mine.
To really address this topic, I suppose I need to address my not so exciting coming out story. I told my parents, they already knew, the end. Accepting me was part of the package, unconditional love, and all that awesomeness. I want to say I’m blessed, but again, all parents and family should love their kids no matter what.
And that’s what being gay has really been like for me. I’ve always known to some extent that I was gay. There was really no question in my mind. Unlike friends of mine who have questioned it for years, I just knew. Coming out was similar to showing my report card to my parents. It really was nothing. Being gay was just a fact of life for me.
Well, when I got involved with my ex, we waited for some time before making love, and when that time came, I switched my general sexual role (if you don’t understand this, you need to stop and think for a minute and consider the roles of sex within a man and man relationship, or better yet, think baseball, baseball bats and balls) to one that was more fitting for the relationship.
It wasn’t difficult, as we never “had sex” but rather “made love” – and this was a role I had considered in the past, and frankly it was amazing in this situation.
Coming out of this relationship though, truly had me baffled. As I not only have the complexity of issues surrounding men in general, and how I don’t trust like I did nor feel comfortable like I did, but added to it is the entire question of what role to play within my own sexuality.
And so I begun to ponder my own sexuality itself.
I even went on to Xtube to see the other side. (No this is not going to be a paragraph about me masturbating, sorry but that wasn’t what happened). Generally I do not like porn. I think it’s just as bad as drugs, and studies indicate that too much exposure causes unrealistic ideals about sex and makes sex less pleasurable. I specifically chose Xtube, though, as I am somewhat familiar with the site due to three human sexuality sites seriously requiring me visit the site and because it will show real people having real sex, rather than showing women being paid to pretend to be enjoying men, and being straight-up misogynistic.
After about a minute of me being bored by attempting to understand how that side of the spectrum works, I did the worst thing in the world. I typed in a location specific to where I was. That brought up, you guessed it, me knowing someone doing something somewhere that I didn’t want to see. Wrong person for me to see at this point in my life, and only I would know who that person would be, as only I was that familiar with them.
That’s when I picked up my phone and made an appointment with a gay sex therapist.
Working through the complex issues surrounding my sexuality and sexual roles isn’t easy. It’s not something I’ve ever had to do before.
While I certainly don’t think I will ever have a relationship with a woman, I can’t say never. What I learned from questioning my sexuality, and with the help of therapy, is that for me sex isn’t sex, it’s love. Connecting two bodies together to provide pleasure is not something I can truly do with someone I don’t have some love for. It just doesn’t work.
And so, while I know I’m not straight, and fairly certain I’m gay, I realized that I am not the six on the Kinsey Scale I thought I was, but rather a four or a five. My sexuality, and my role within that sexuality, will not be defined by what I make it alone, but rather, it will be defined what me and my partner make it in love.