SARD: Part 18 – When the Questions Never End…?

I have these times when I have a sudden urge to “Get right with God” – you might have noticed it.  I go through a series of mental games with myself where I fall back on assumptions I used to have about sexuality. These assumptions amount to ideas of mind over matter – in other words, I convince myself that I don’t have to be bisexual, if I don’t want to be. I go on these missions to understand WHY I have engaged in certain sexual behaviors – because there MUST be a reason, right?

I remember when I first began to question my gender, as well. I remember wondering if my sexuality and gender are intimately connected in a lot of ways. I know the common understanding is that they are separate issues, but I have always wondered about how they might be connected. I’ve said before, that in my experience I am feel more masculine when I am with women, but more feminine when I am with men.  To me, it seems readily obvious that my so-called gender identity is connected to my sexuality.

But speaking of gender identity, I’m even beginning to question that.  I ascribe to science in so many ways, and science has already determined that the genetic make-up of men and women are different, based upon the shapes of their chromosomes.  There are anomalies, just like anything else in nature, but anomalies are rare – I even read the other day that there are only like 0.023% people in the U.S. that are Transgendered (Assuming a population of 320 million, that’s still  73,600 people. I could be misquoting the statistic, but that’s still as many people that would fill up a small city like Casper, WY). So, I question who/what I am and these questions conflict with any sort of faith I may still be struggling

The problem with this is that I get overwhelmed. Some of you have seen me literally obliterate entire blogs, because of it. I’ve deleted blogs I’ve had for 2 or 3 years, sometimes, because I get so sick of the online image I present of myself, that it is so far removed from the one I have in “real” life. I’ve even posted my picture once and I had someone email me and tell me what a “great looking man” I was.  It bothered me, actually, because I don’t feel great looking and I don’t feel like a man. But the sad reality for me, is that I don’t look or feel like a woman either. I realize I’m not androgynous looking – my physical features are extremely masculine. And sometimes I feel like I want to be Dexter St. Jock, swinging my penis around like a rope and slinging it across my shoulder onto my back as if I’m the manliest stud to walk the face of the earth. And yet, I still dream of fitting into a pretty dress, squealing like a girl, and doing other feminine things.  Are my pains the results of social constructs? Some would say so. Or are my pains the result of not living within acceptance of my true self – whatever that might be?  And there are others that would think that. And, what about living how God would want me to live?  Oh, I think that would be a resounding “Yes” from some.

The problem is that I have lost myself. I have lost myself and just don’t know how to get back to feeling happy, content, peaceful, confident, etc. And these questions make me contemplate just checking out from everything – not actual life, but checking out from the current path I’m on and finding another one.  But I also feel like these feelings are temporary. I find little bits of ironies in life a lot of the time – of course, 9 out of ten times, they’re an irony in my own life. And as I feel these things, I sometimes happen upon something like this post, which gives me hope that I’m not the only one who struggles from time to time.

SARD: Part 17 – Why Have I Never Come Out?

I received an email the other day from a follower inquiring as to why I have never come out as bisexual or someone with a gender identity disorder.  This is a complex question to answer, as you might imagine.  The reality is that there are a multitude of issues I deal with and my sexuality and gender are certainly some of the more complex matters I handle on an ongoing basis.  I discussed in my last post for my Sexual and Relationship Development, the times I have come out to someone – and they are pretty rare; but, there are many reasons I have not come out on any grand scale and I don’t plan on it.

One of the main reasons I don’t share my sexuality or gender identity issues is because of safety.  Any Google search of hate crimes against LGBT will give you an article like this one, that states about 20% of the hate crimes reported in the U.S. are directed towards those in the LGBT community.  Even in my home state of Colorado, hate against the LGBT community exists (Granted, this article is a little dated, so the statistics might be different now). The intention of my post isn’t to divulge all of the horrible crimes that hit the LGBT community, because there have been oodles and oodles of articles, news stories, outcries, policies made and so many other things to address the matter.  No my main point is to stress that it is not something people like me can face without worry. And I truly admire those that stand up, regardless.

And, although there are laws that protect LGBT people in the workforce, there are still repercussions that occur when people come out.  We live in an imperfect world and there are always imperfect consequences to these matters.  I’ve mentioned before, that I work in an industry that is stereotypically masculine and if I were to out myself, I worry about how it would impact my career in the long run.  Especially after returning from a two year lay-off, I now have a sense of needing to protect my job and my career. I realize there are always legal avenues I could pursue, if I were to come out and there was any kind of backlash in that action, but I don’t want the headache of it all right now in my life.  The reality is that I am trying to recover my financial state and protect myself from another slide.  At this point in my life, I feel old and I feel like there is not much time left for me to achieve the success I desire (Of course, this is an entirely different topic…).

Another thing I don’t discuss too often online is the fact that I do have children.  My role as a parent is to protect them and protect any sense of a stable life for them.  Granted, the mere fact that I’m currently preparing for divorce is going to unsettle them a bit (a couple of my kids are already adults, so maybe a little easier for them), but to have to deal with one of their parents struggling with their own sense of self, is not something I want to burden them.  Granted, I have had this discussion with others – even therapists – that express that my demonstration of courage would be a strong trait to instill in my children; I would not want them to have to deal with the negative consequences that could come along with it.  I understand this is a sensitive topic on its own, but I believe my goal is to love them the best I know how.

My family is traditionally very conservative in their beliefs and traditions, so my coming out would come as a complete surprise, I believe.  My dad’s side of the family is probably a little more conservative than my mom’s side of the family.  Although, I have a couple of aunts on my mom’s side of the family that are very pro-LGBT, I think they are also very judgmental and tend to have the attitudes that if you don’t live life the way the see fit, then you are wrong (I don’t get along so well, with these aunts…lol). I’ve always wondered how people in my family would react, if they were to know and sometimes I’ve toyed with the idea that maybe a few might actually realize I am bisexual and/or trans (I’m still working through this issue).  I also have grandparents that are still alive, but they are getting older and one of them is truly struggling with health right now; but I wouldn’t want them to deal with the latter days of their lives thinking something horrible about themselves that I’m not what they had envisioned for life.  I know there are a multitude of different “what ifs” that can’t be defined, simply because they are “what ifs”, but I have decided that this is easier for me to handle this way.

Religion and God?  Obviously, for those of you that have followed my blog for a while, religion is tight issue with me.  I struggle with being raised Catholic and coming to the understanding that I am bisexual.  I understand the catholic theological point of view on the matter and it ultimately boils down to the fact that sexual relationships within Catholicism are completely okay, when they are kept to the confines of a marriage between one man and one woman.  The historical and theological references that can be made do not need to be discussed, other than to point out that they will lead to the same conclusion: regardless of your sexuality, a human being is called to be sexually chaste; or in the case of marriage, sexual fidelity within the marriage.  This is a topic that has been debated for centuries, but not the purpose of my post, so I’m not going to make an argument other than to point out it’s relevance to me not coming out: I have not decided how I want to live my life, with this particular aspect of my life. I can’t give up my concept of God, I can’t give up that idea that God wants me to live a certain way.  And because of that, I do have a bit of fear about how I should live my life.  Intellectually, I understand a lot of the arguments for and against; but spiritually, I just haven’t figured it out yet.  And I’m not ready to completely reject it, although, I am totally and utterly apprehensive about embracing it.

Although, there are many other reasons I have not come out, the ones I listed above are the most critical ones. They are the ones that are on my mind when I consider the impacts or purpose of doing just that.  However, the one reason I have felt the most comfortable is the one reason I am able to function on a day to day basis without it overbearing me with the worries:

My sexuality is on a need to know basis.  It’s truly my business.

SARD: Part 16 – The times I’ve tried to come out

WARNING: Intended for Adult audiences and probably NSFW 21+


In this segment of the series I have called Sexual and Relationship Development (or SARD), I wanted to discuss the relatively few times I have come out to anyone as bisexual.  This morning I had a thought about how revealing who I am on any grand scale might benefit me.  I don’t think it would, actually, but the thought had me thinking about the people I have tried to tell.  There haven’t been very many, but I thought I’d mention the handful that I have told – or even the ones that new but didn’t know how right they were. In this particular segment, I’m going to come clean about a lot of things that I am not proud of doing, but they happened, so I’m going to divulge them.

I think my earliest recollection of telling anyone I was bisexual was an ex-girlfriend of mine. I don’t use real names for the not-so-innocent people involved, so I call her Katy. Katy and I had been pretty adventurous, sexually, when we dated. And there were a couple times, in addition to the cross-dressing I did with her, that toys were introduced in our love making and sexual play. Katy used a toy with a strap-on with me a couple of times.  During one such session, she was behind me and asked, “Are you gay?”  I replied with, “No, I enjoy sex with you…”  And then she began to insert the toy into me and said, “But you love cock so much, baby…”  I nodded and she said, “Are you bi…?”  I was being taken at that point, but I nodded and told her yes.

Another time, I had a friend in college who’s name was Timmy.  I had always assumed Timmy was gay, but I never knew for sure. He was kind of a quiet guy, but very nice to everyone around him.  He also spoke softly, and at the time, effeminate men were always assumed to be gay – society hadn’t really begun to shed it’s stereotypes just yet.  So, one day, I asked him, “Timmy, are you gay?” His eyes practically swallowed his face, they got so big. He looked around, as if everyone was watching, and he said in a hushed voice, “Um…yeah…”  I felt bad for having put him on the spot, so I offered a little bit about myself, “It’s okay. I’m bisexual…I won’t tell anyone.” Timmy has always been a good friend. Gawd knows how many times he’s had to put up with me whining about my relationship. The one and only thing that worried me about Timmy is the time I met him for dinner, about 10 years after college and he told me he had been with 250 guys – I mean, how can one ass handle that?!?!?!  (I literally asked him that and he assumed I was teasing…he’s a slut!, but a good friend. I haven’t seen him in a few years, I should email him…)

The next person I told was a bartender in a bar at a hotel I was staying at for work.  My marriage was in turmoil (Ugh…when isn’t it, huh?) and I strongly considered going out on my spouse. I happened to be sitting in this bar one night and having a drink. I was already in the process of trying to come to terms with myself and was going through this thing in my head where I was assuming that because my marriage was bad, it must be me. And since I couldn’t make any relationship with a woman work, it must be because I am not straight and it’s subconsciously playing itself out in my relationships. Well, I struck up a conversation with the bartender and she was really nice, so I asked her about the nightlife of this particular town.  She began to tell me all the various places that “single guys” would like.  I lowered my voice, so as only she could hear and playfully changed my voice to a slight lisp and expressed, “Honey, I’m not tho thure I would fit in at thome of those plathes…” She got a look of understanding on her face and gave a small smirk and said, “Oh, well you want to go to…” And she rattled off the names of two local gay bars.  I didn’t go – probably because I was terrified of actually being found out. But at the time, I felt somewhat liberated feeling a little open.

Another time I told someone was a childhood friend of mine – Robert (I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned him before or not, so I didn’t find a link). He and I were friends since age six. He is totally and utterly unaware of any of my sexual experiences – other than with some girls – until I mentioned to him I was bisexual. He and I were both friends with a couple of the guys that I had been involved, but no one talked about it, so I doubt he knew. I had considered a Rob a pretty close friend of mine and we had grown up together, gotten into fights together, flirted with different girls together, etc. etc. We had lost contact for a while, because life just takes you in different directions.  But we reconnected and I he and I went out and had a beer. I told him there was something I wanted to tell him and he said “Yeah, whatever…”. I looked him in the eyes and I said, “I’m bi…”  He looked a little shocked, but said, “I don’t care…but I’m not fucking you!” (Truth be told, he’s NOT my type…I wouldn’t fuck him, if he wanted to know…). I couldn’t go through with it, however, so the next day I called him up and started laughing in the phone. I was saying things like, “You’re so fucking gullible and dumb. $10 says you would have popped your cock out, if I asked…I’m not gay, bone head!”  It must have worked, because he said, “I figured you were fucking with me…”  I didn’t stay friends with Robert.  He made me feel really uncomfortable around a family member to the point that the hair on my neck stuck up.  A few years after that, I had heard he got messed up on meth and I have not heard hide nor hair of him since.

Another person I told was my wife. It came about one night, because I had fallen asleep and was dreaming. She and I had only been together about 6 years at this point, so it was fairly early in our marriage. But I had a VIVID dream that night. My wife asked me the next morning, if I knew what I was saying in my sleep.  Of course, I didn’t, but she had a little look of concern on her face and asked me, “Are you gay?” I am sure I scrunched my eyebrows, but I said, “Um… no, why?”  She said, “Well, it seems like you had an exciting dream about a guy…”  I asked, “Why is that?” And she said, “You kept telling him to put it in your mouth, you want to suck it…”  I felt horrified!  I said, “I had a dream… Look, there’s something I got to tell you…”  And she looked worried and said, “Are you cheating on me with a guy? I can’t be married to you, if you’re gay, you know that, right?”  I replied, “No, no, no… Look, I did have a dream about someone, but it was someone long before you and I met. And yes, it was a guy. I thought maybe I was gay at one time, but I think I am bi or confused or whatever. But I am NOT cheating on you with a guy. I promise that. It was just a dream…” Of course, she needed a little comforting, but it kind of worked its way out at the time. But I never heard the end of it, during arguments. There were so many times when we argued, that I heard things like, “Well, maybe you need to go find someone to give it to you up the ass!” or “Go find a dick to suck!” or “Faggot!”  Of course, these were just as bad as all of the times I was accused of screwing other women too.

The only other people I have told, in real life, were therapists. I have told three therapists about my sexuality. Of course, not one of them seemed surprised at all.  I’m not sure why I’m writing about this today, but it did strike me and I felt the need to do it.

So, there you have it!

SARD Part 15 – Damn Co-Dependency!


There are some days that have me questioning things.  Today, I’m feeling low…it was such an awesome high, yesterday, that I knew a low was going to follow – it always does.  I am torn about my marriage and I wonder, in some small way, if all I’m doing is trying to run and hide from myself and my responsibilities as a man.  I have such a hard time dealing with myself, when others I deal with aren’t happy with me.  This is so true in my normal everyday dealing with people, that it is no surprise that it is a cornerstone of any romantic/intimate relationship I have. I have so many examples of my codependency.

For example, I had a girlfriend once who cheated on me, and I did everything I could to try and convince her not to cheat on me.  I felt like I must have done something that would make her want to do this.  It must be something I have done, so I apologized for things I happened to be doing wrong.  Granted, they were wrong, but looking at it logically, almost anyone would agree that there is no excuse for cheating. However, I would make her indiscretions my issue, rather than making her accountable to herself (Granted, I did put my hand through her door when she told me…so THAT was childish and wrong). Then you can look at my marriage and there are so many examples of that same behavior, that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Granted, my wife has never cheated (Well…kind of…there was that one time when she had a picture of a friend’s penis; and, recently, she began talking to an ex boyfriend and told me she was going to leave me for him, if I didn’t change).  This is not something I can excuse in my behavior, because I have.  And I have made other mistakes, as well – I was wrong for it, and I won’t do that to anyone again.  But for years, previous to that, I had been the victim of domestic violence.  That’s right, I said it…I had been hit by her on several occasions during arguments.  And I’m not talking about a slap across the face (Gawd knows, I have a sarcastic tongue…); no, I’m talking closed fists to my face kind of hits.  I remember her telling me on several occasions, when I expressed I didn’t like that treatment, “If you’d show me some respect, you wouldn’t get hit”. What did I do? I tried to change my behavior to accommodate her needs. I mean, I loved her, so wouldn’t I want to change myself to suit her?  This is just a small taste of the toxicity in my marriage.

In fact, when I began my first WP blog, it was intended to be about my failing marriage – that was almost 5 years ago, when I began blogging on WP.  I have changed myself so much to try and meet her needs, I began to forget who I am.  I expressed in previous postings, that I absolutely changed who I am as a basic individual. I have also come to terms with my sexuality over the past few years.  I truly believe I am bisexual. But something else began to emerge – Stephanie.  I am now questioning this reality. I’m questioning if it is simply another way for me to try and adapt to all of the heartache I feel as man.  Am I really someone that has problems with his identity, or have I been so emasculated through not being appreciated for who I am, that I felt I needed to change everything about myself – including my gender. But I’m questioning so much about the marriage that I am now having doubts about it’s continuance or it’s demise.

Something else happened today that had me questioning if I am even a good person.  Somehow, I inadvertently offended someone on here that I considered a friend.  I won’t go into details, because it’s not fair to discuss it, but she had asked me to unfriend her and has since blocked me.  Now, I’m wondering what I did wrong.  I always feel like there is always something I can do to have prevented a negative situation from occurring.  I look to turn a cheek, I look to explain myself for fear that the other person thinks I mean to hurt them. I look for some way to salvage any wrong -perceived or real.  It’s something I don’t know how to let go and accept that sometimes oil and water really don’t mix.

I feel like a failure when I want to make someone happy and it doesn’t happen…

And now, I begin to wonder again, if I am to blame for my marriage. Am I avoiding some responsibility? Should I be handling my life in a different way? What can I do to make things right? I’m probably only thinking of my needs, wants and desires when I consider my sexuality or consider that I’m not the gender I was born to be.  I start to question all my knowledge of self and wonder if I’m truly fucked up? Maybe when I question all of this, I should be seeking God…or return to my faith and accept that I am all wrong.

I feel like I was happy as a man at one time. I felt at one time I was happy being heterosexual. I felt at one time, I was secure in who I was as a person.  But life happened to me, it happened to me and it made me question everything about myself. Just like today did – and I don’t even know why, because it’s not like I was even close to this “friend” I mentioned above. It shouldn’t feel important. Granted, I have had conversations with a few of you on here and I feel like losing any of those friendships would devastate me, if this one is doing what it is doing now.

But, it made me want to eat this:


At least it’s not a beer, right?

But I know, deep down, this co-dependency thing will be there with me, at all times! I don’t understand when it developed, where it developed or why it developed. I feel like I used to be secure, but somehow it’s like everything else I’m realizing about myself – it feels like it has probably always been there, but has never surfaced until later in life. But there are other things that I began to question after I started feeling co-dependent, so are any of those a reality for me?

SARD: Part 14 – That time I was Stephanie.

WARNING: NSFW, Intended for older than 18 years of age.


Today, I was having a discussion with a friend via email. And she asked me my name (Obviously, my real name is NOT “Tar Nished”), and I gave it to her.  I’m usually open about giving my real name on email, but I have an issue with my gender identity, and although, I think I have pretty well nailed it down, something comes along that makes me think about it. So, I am making another entry in my Sexual and Relationship Development to discuss that time I went by the name Stephanie. I even joked around with my friend about using this name.

I have mentioned that there were various times in my youth, and sometimes in adulthood, where I have felt an inclination towards femininity and being a female over a male.  I’m not totally sure when some of these tendencies began to arise, but today as I spoke with my friend and the name Stephanie came up, I remembered how it came into being.  The truth of the matter is that it is the name my mother would have given me, had I been born as a girl.  But how does it come into play in my Sexual Development?

Back in high school, I had a friend that lived on the same street as I did. His name was Chris.  One day, we both decided to call ourselves by the opposite gender name our mothers would have given us, had we been born girls. He would have been Heather and I would have been Stephanie.  It all began rather innocently, we would call each other on the phone, such as, “Hi Heather, it’s Stephanie.” Or we would go knock on each other’s door and ask, “Is Heather here?”  Our mothers both thought we were goofing off with each other and harassing each other.

One evening, however, I was over at Chris’ house and in his back yard. We were just talking, when out of the blue he asked, “So, does Stephanie like boys or girls?” He had a bit of a grin on his face. I smirked and replied, “I might like boys, why?”  His grin deepened and he opened up the fly to his jeans and said, pulling his penis out and said, “What would Stephanie do with this?”  Almost immediately, I sank to my knees in front of Chris and began to give him a blow job.  He stroked my head as I looked up into his eyes with his cock in my mouth.  He said to me, in a deep, low voice, “Good girl. I like it, keep doing it”.

I would have probably continued doing it, but the door of his house opened, letting some light out. I stood up immediately and wiped the saliva off my mouth.  Chris put himself back inside his jeans and zipped his zipper. Luckily we were in an area of his yard, darkened by shadows as one of his brothers came out to find out what we were doing. Chris had told him we were just hanging out.

Chris and I never did anything like that again.  In fact, we both had treated it like it never occurred. We never used our “girl” names again and there was never another sexual encounter.  I treated it like I did almost all of the same-sex encounters I have had – like there was something wrong with me.  I simply made the decision, at the time, that it was wrong that I shouldn’t (there’s that damned word again…) be doing it and that if I never did it again, everything would be alright. I felt that pretending to be a girl was just that – pretending. I had a penis, there was no way I could be a girl.  Like I’ve mentioned in other posts, the concept of being anything other than a masculine male did not seem to be reality.

I’m somewhat shocked that I had forgotten this incident, but re-visiting the name of Stephanie had brought it out.  I easily come to contemplate my reality, my sexuality, sexual behavior, my gender, how I see myself an all that goes into it.  Today, I had an email exchange with a different friend that encouraged me in a similar way as the one I mentioned above – to seek happiness. One friend suggested that if I want to feel pretty, then that is what I should pursue. The first friend suggested that if I want a boyfriend, then maybe it was time for me to find that.

I am in a better place today, than I was many years ago. I’m in a better place than I was a year ago. I’m in a better place than I was 4 months ago. I am enjoying being me…the real and authentic me. I like that I have more power over how I see myself than I ever imagined before. Sometimes I think about all of the things I should (there it is again…), but I also think that I need to just live for now and whatever happens is okay.

But I have come to love my inner Stephanie.

SARD: Part 13 – Finding Love as a Bisexual.

Sometimes I think I spend way to much time alone, because I spend a lot of time thinking when I do.  Today, I happened to be thinking about my sexuality and how it relates to the current job I’m doing and also how it relates to my relationships in life.

I work in a job, that is currently all men – one would think that I would love all that machismo, rough, tough, testosterone driven men, right?  The reality is, men like that are not very accepting of “men” like myself. As a result, I keep my sexuality a big secret from anyone I work with – it’s a need for self preservation that motivates me to do this. But it made me think about the various times in my life that I was willing to flirt with the idea that I am into guys – things that are a part of my Sexual and Relationship Development.

On previous blogs, I mentioned that I went back and forth at different times in my life wondering if I was gay, confused, acting out from being victimized, etc.  When I was younger, there was no such thing as “bisexual”, let alone any gender other than two.  Society has certainly changed, but attitudes are not so much changed. People aren’t as vocal about their disdain for others, but it still exists.  As a bisexual guy, being open and honest with people was nearly an impossibility.  I know I made different attempts at trying to confront it and mentioning it to friends, but it has not gone very successfully.  I have mentioned before, but today it really made me wonder how my life might have been different if I were open to the possibility that some guy would fall in love with me.

Don’t get me wrong, there are things about my life and people in my life, that I would never want to change (I have children, for example, but I don’t often discuss them out of a sense of protection), but I have pondered what might have been different about life if I had openly dated and loved guys.  I wonder if my own attitude towards sexuality would have been different; I’m certain, I would have come to terms with my sexuality a lot faster. But I have always wanted to be pursued by a buy, much like many of them pursue women.

I’ve never had that experience of a guy trying to woo me. I wonder if a guy would do silly things for me, the way I have seen them do silly things for girls.  Would I have been serendipitously flirty with a guy paying attention to me?  What about being asked out on a date?  I have only had that experience once, and I have always regretted it. If my sexuality wasn’t frowned upon, growing up, I can only imagine I would have developed a different mindset on dating. I would have wanted guys to pursue me, I would have tried to do things that made it obvious that I was as available to guys as I was girls.  I would have wanted to experiment with my sexuality in ways that teenaged kids do. I would have wanted to kiss, be kissed, chase and be chased by guys.  Although I was stood up for my senior prom, I could have let a guy take me – and I would have given myself up to him. I think I could have had a boyfriend, if only things were different.

But they are not different. My reality is what it is, and I’d like to think that I have the self-knowledge and self-acceptance to embrace my sexuality with a loving heart. Ultimately, that is all what we want on some level – to be loved and to share love. And I am glad that I now know that if I am ever in a place where I can be open to a man loving me, I can give him what he needs.

SARD: Part 12 – Gender dichotomy a prelude to sexual behavior? Or “You squeal like a girl!”

It’s been a while, since I’ve written about my Sexual and Relationship Development, but today I happened to almost get into a wreck while driving to work.  A car veered towards me and came into my lane. I was forced to slow down and let that person merge over. The thing is, however, when it started to come at me, I let out a high-pitched squeal – like a girl.  I don’t always do it, but it does happen from time to time. 

I remember the first time (or rather, my first memory of it), I was playing with my cousin in my grandmother’s basement cellar. She and I were standing there, and all of a sudden, out of no-where came the creepiest daddy long-leg spider I had ever seen. Both my cousin and I screamed and jumped onto an old cabinet watching the thing crawl towards us. And then, he must have invited his entire family and friends – that’s right, the Daddy Long Leg attack force was coming at us and we both began screaming… You guessed it; like girls.

I remember another time, when I was dating a girl. She and I were someone accustomed to just walking into each other’s houses unannounced. This one day, I went in and went downstairs to her room.  I had assumed she was asleep or something, but as I turned a corner she jumped out and surprised me. And I jumped right out of my pants with a blood curdling scream (Or at least that’s how I imagined it) and she fell down in a fit of laughter and said, “You squeal like a girl!”.

There have been other instances where I have done this and I think it comes as a shock to most people, because I have such a masculine exterior and persona (Or at least, I was convinced that I had to be…societal construct, maybe?). It seemed to be a paradoxical aspect of who I was or thought I was.  And the reason I mention it, is because I had always wondered how much of my sexuality is linked to my gender. I have mentioned in previous posts that I felt a lot of my assumed sexuality was constructed by my upbringing and society at large. So, the idea that I could exhibit some femininity was out of the question, as well.  But I have always found myself linking my feminine behaviors to my desires to be with guys and linked my masculine behaviors to being attracted to women.  In me, there is almost a switch that turns on and off, in my mind, based upon my current attractions. 

I have often said, when I am with men, I distinctly prefer the more stereotypical role of feminine submission to male dominance (I realize that this doesn’t sit well with feminist ideas, but please keep in mind that this was not a well-accepted idea in my youth). I am what is referred to as a “bottom”, when I am with a guy.  I don’t find the reverse role appealing in the least. I tend to take on a more, submissive role with a guy.  I remember, once, when I was having sex with a guy, I practically begged him to call me “his girl”. I embellish this idea – although, it was not on the forefront of my mind on a lot of situations I had with guys.  Trust me, there were a few friends that it was an unspoken rule that although they got a great blowjob from me, there would be no mention of the activity in public. I even had a guy one time tell me, he wouldn’t be with me, if I “acted gay”.

For a time, the exact reverse was true when I was with women. I tended to enjoy a more dominant role with women. I enjoyed the act of pursuing (although, there are entire side-categories to my sexual escapades with women, not worth detailing right now) women – i.e. the stereotypical “chase”.  I had the ideas that I needed to be a protector, a gentleman, the breadwinner, etc., etc.  I assumed there was a “right” way to be, and I attempted to exemplify that.  The reality, however, is that I tend to play a submissive role with women, as well. There are times when I am more dominant, but I believe it has a lot to do with the specific relationship, but I tend to adapt to what my partner needs.  Sex has not only been fun, but a matter of enhancing the relationship, for me.

I have gotten to a point in my life, however, that I am discovering that I am who I am. My largest fault has been not accepting myself for who I actually am.  Am I feminine? Yes. Am I masculine? Sometimes I am. Am I gay? For the right guy? Am I straight? If she loves me and needs it that way. Am I submissive? Absolutely for men, and dictated by the relationship I have with a woman. Am I dominant? Never with a man, but will be for the woman that needs me to be.  Granted, being in a monogamous relationship, makes a lot of this moot, but it is nice knowing that I am who I am.

And sometimes, when the sex is right…

…I squeal like a damned girl!