So, I have a couple of things to mention before I begin this post:
- Please be warned, my thoughts might be vulgar, explicit, sexual, not for the young, and generally jacked up. Be warned.
- This is an off the hip post, without much organized thought, so it will be a rambling of sorts. With that in mind, it may have the tendency to drag on.
- It’s a fucked up post, if you ask me.
Today, I have many thoughts whirring around in my head. I mentioned in the comment section of someone else’s post, that this is what I enjoy calling “mental masturbation” (Not my wording, but it’s appropriate) – so it basically means I’m fucking myself. My thoughts are surrounding so many things, but namely my sexuality, my gender, my delving into a bottle, and whatever else happens to pop into my head. I tend to get a little anxious about things and I’m sure this has more to do with my upcoming trip than anything else. But I also want to let it out, so it doesn’t fuck up my other efforts in life right now.
This morning, I woke up thinking about my sexuality and questioning the authenticity of it. It’s not uncommon for me to contemplate my sexuality, because it is something I have dealt with over and over – mostly from a mental standpoint than a physical one. Granted, I might have been considered a slut in my younger days, but now I don’t want to be flagrant in my sexuality and tend to be more reserved than I was in the past. I certainly don’t have the courage that this guy has, and will never come out on any grand scale or march in any pride parades. But it leads me to wonder, at times, if I am really bisexual, if I am afraid to be bisexual, if I am a product of a fucked up like, or if I have convinced myself that I’m bisexual.
As many of my readers know, I have struggled with this matter for a long time and it always comes to a head for me, in terms of self-acceptance. I wonder what proper behavior is supposed to look like. I have always felt that sexuality has as much to do with choice as it does with nature. I have always felt that there are natural things about sexuality that incorporate out human nature to enjoy sex, but I also believe there are some things that are learned. For example, I didn’t wake up one day knowing how to have sex, how to kiss, how to give a blow job, how to give cunnilingus, or anything of the sort. Those are things that one has to learn to do, one has to experience them to understand them in an intimate matter (um…duh?). But the desires are already there, some of them are natural, but some of them could have external influences.
Take for example that I was molested when I was very young – I think like 3 or 4 years old. Sometimes it’s tough for me to remember details, but I do know it was a male babysitter my aunt and mom had hired to watch my cousin and I. She and I were both molested by him (Unfortunately, my cousin had received many more assaults from different places…fuckers!), but I have always wondered if it left me with an unnatural attraction to cock. It took me years to accept that I might be bisexual and it has nothing to do with being molested. I know, growing up with a religious background (one that I would describe as compassionate and not oppressive), I could only rationalize my feelings, emotions and attractions as being a direct fallout of being a victim. I based some of this on reading about some of the stories of sexual assault victims and how they associated guilt and shame with sex. I know on some of my same-sex interactions, I felt shame and I felt guilt. But there were some that I felt similar emotions as to when I was with an opposite sex partner (which, by the way I feel the need to qualify that I have had more heterosexual interactions in life, than I did homosexual interactions – probably like a 10:1 ratio in interactions but a 3:1 ratio in partners), and those emotions didn’t involve shame (maybe a little guilt since I grew up with the belief that sex outside of marriage was wrong…). I always equated the times I felt shame was due to the other guy pressuring me into the sexual exchange.
But there were times I felt good….mmmhhhmmmm good. (I’m focusing on the same-sex situations more than the same sex, solely for the purpose of this post). I had mentioned in my last blog, a friend of mine named Dave. I loved his cock. I loved playing with him. He was cocky (Intended pun, maybe?) and arrogant and a bit on the selfish side, but I felt like I couldn’t give him enough head. I felt no shame with him and sometimes have wondered what it would have been like if I were honest with myself and admitted that I was bisexual. There have been times when I have fantasized about him, for example the time when I admitted to my wife that I thought I was bisexual and was moaning in my sleep, “I’ll let you put it in my mouth.” (Yeah, that was embarrassing. So, I ended up telling my wife that I had been with a few different guys before she and I ever met). There were also friends of mine that I felt…um…hot and weak around, but never in a million years did I think of telling them that. Granted, there were other times I felt pressured into sex. There was another kid I grew up with that when he and I had hung out together, he kinda forced himself on me… I didn’t like that, at all.
But to call myself bisexual was still not going to happen until much later in life. When I was a teen, there was no such things as “bisexual”; you were either gay, or you were not. You either sucked dick or you did not. This didn’t seem to play out for me in this respect… I liked sucking dick, but I also loved girls. I loved everything about girls, but I didn’t understand that I also enjoyed guys. There was just something that didn’t make sense to me and I began to try and explain it to myself by saying that it was due to being molested – that MUST be the explanation. Later as I began to understand my own religious faith, and the principles of understanding that faith, there were alternative explanations that were offered – i.e. being born “homosexual” wasn’t evil, but was simply a state of human nature, but it was our responsibility to carry that cross and refrain from sex outside of the union of a man and a woman (This was my interpretation of the things I read).
As time went on in life, I began reading more and more about sexuality, religion, science faith, psychology and other sources, I began to develop other ideas. Maybe, an alternative sexuality was really valid. I had been to therapists that treated my sexuality as if it were a non issue – i.e. that human sexuality is on a spectrum and there really isn’t a label that can be attached to it. There became this evolution of ideas about myself that became more acceptable to me, I was starting to find some peace in realizing that my same-sex attractions, interactions and sexual activites were just as valid as the ones I had with the opposite sex. There became an evolution of ideas that I might be “normal” (As a scientist, I despise when most people use this term, because there is a literal mathematical definition of the term “normal” and what society deems normal is literally not mathematically true.), or rather, not wrong. But it left me wondering how I fit this into my life now.
Was I supposed to be a certain way? Were there certain behaviors that I kept hidden that I didn’t have to? How would I even react to having had “boyfriends” instead of “fuck buddies”? And then, there was this idea that I somehow needed to embrace who/what I am. For me, I’m not so sure about these other implications, because I have built my life around a certain way of thinking and it hadn’t matched up to what I began to understand bout myself. For example, I am now feeling that some of my feminine characteristics can be accepted for what they are. Online, it’s easy to be mistaken for the other gender – at least that’s been the case for me. But it causes me to think about gender and my gender identity.
I have always felt male. I haven’t always felt masculine. The man I call my dad was not in my life until I was about 4 years old. He isn’t my biological father, but I have called him dad for as long as I can remember. He has certainly taught me everything I have ever needed to know about being a man and being manly – but always in a positive and empowering way. But before he came along, I was essentially raised by my mom and her three sisters, since my “father” bailed out on my mom while she was still pregnant (I’ve never known him and have never met him). I have always attributed some of my feminine characteristics to having been instilled in me, inadvertently by having nothing but women around me in my very formative years (It’s a common theory that most children develop their basic personality by age 3). Truthfully, however, I recognize that some of my femininity are simply stereotypes. But there are some things that I have done that could easily be assumed to be “girly”.
I remember different times in my life that I had explored a girly side to myself. I had dressed in girls’ clothes a few times. Granted, they were times when I was playing dress-up with my cousin; she was my best friend growing up and she and I would put on each other’s clothes or dress up in our mother’s clothes and things like that. I kind of enjoyed it and took a lot of comfort in being in dresses when I was younger. Also, do you remember the “eggs” that L’eggs Nylons came in? Well, I would use those to simulate breasts and I would wear braziers too. I never felt like I wanted to BE a girl though, but it was kinda fun pretending back then. My mom has mentioned to me before that I played with Barbies when I was little too (I’ve always wondered which Barbie play set I might have liked most…but I don’t remember that). And I had an ex-girl friend when I was a young adult that would dress me up in her clothes from time to time. She had bought me a wig, did my make-up and had me dress in her skirts or dresses, wear nylon and heels – kind of the whole works; she really dolled me up, I’m sure. But beyond those times, I never felt like I was an ACTUAL girl or woman – for me, it was fun to make-believe, I suppose.
The reality is that I’m extremely masculine looking. I have always enjoyed my masculine qualities, as well. I had similar egos as my male friends, I wanted to pick up girls on Friday nights, I enjoyed weight lifting and shows of machismo just like any other guy. I enjoyed traditional male activities – like fishing, camping, hiking, sports, etc. Granted, I was never so sports oriented that I knew all there was about sports, I simply enjoyed it. At the time, however, I didn’t think much of it. I liked “being the man” when I was with women (versus “being the woman” when I had been with guys). I capitalized on being a gentleman in traditional male roles. You kinda get the picture here, right? And yes, my knuckles actually drag on the ground. I fart too. And I drink beer.
I never thought much of my feminine traits, outside of just thinking I was a goofball. I never actually thought I was anything but male – I have a penis, and I have testicles, and hair all over my friggin body (…and oddly…I think it’s ‘icky’…go figure) and never thought I could, or even want to, be a woman. I’ve even had psychological exams that have stated that I exhibit traditional male values and characteristics. I felt pretty comfortable in my own body – a long time ago. Today, I read this post, and I agree with the premise. I think we are born the way we are and we allow society to tell us that we are not perfect. Gawd knows I have been doing that a lot lately. I am currently reading a book that is focused on women (and I like that I am able to relate to it), but I don’t want to give up my maleness. I like it (OMG, I can’t believe I am saying something positive about myself); but at the same time, I also don’t want to give up my “girly” traits…I’m taking some comfort in accepting them as they are. I am opening my mind up to other ideas and I like that I can actually see that I can apply them to myself.
Of course, this leads me to the other topic I have mentioned in the title: Alcoholism. I am frustrated even considering this idea of alcoholism. Obviously, those of you that have followed me for the past couple of years are aware that I have struggled. I was doing really well a few months ago, and I began tackling the issue that I might be an alcoholic back in January. I haven’t been drunk in many years and I have absolutely no negative consequences from drinking – or at least the ones that get you into jail, fights or other people’s beds. But I do recognize it impacts my health. I deleted my last blog, as many of you know, but it had a tremendous amount to do with the fact that I was closed to 90 days without having had one beer. And then, in a fit of depression, I went out and began drinking again. I never drink more than 2 or 3 beers at a time, but once I saw I was doing it on a daily basis again, I was embarrassed with myself. I didn’t want to admit it to any of you…the only people that were encouraging me. I was ashamed, and I have been having a couple of beers every day since – except on weekends (oddly, on weekends I don’t drink at all). Well, I haven’t been getting drunk and I am easily stopping after the 2-3 beers I have been having with dinner, but I don’t believe it is good for me. I think this is an issue I will continue to think about…
And with that said, I think I’m done fucking rambling on and on and on. If you stayed aboard this long, I appreciate it.