Category: Uncategorized
01/09/2014
Dear me,
Remember that party I went to the other night, that I mentioned a couple of days ago? It wasn’t too bad, although there was an awkward moment that I’ve been mulling over a bit since. As you’d expect, I was greeted by the host of the party (shall we call him Guy?) with a friendly hello, but he then followed this up with the quizzical statement, “I saw you on Tinder…” I shot a nervous glance at my friends. How was I supposed to reply? Guy’s gay. Was he interested in me? But he knows I have a girlfriend. In fact, he personally knows my girlfriend. But maybe he thought we could’ve broken up? Maybe he’s suspicious that I’m cheating on my girlfriend? Oh god, I hope he doesn’t think that. I’ll just tell him the truth. I stumbled over my words, coughing sheepishly for authenticity, “Me and Daisy both got Tinder as a joke”. Shit, but maybe he thinks I was faking my interest in men on Tinder, just for a joke? I hope he doesn’t think that, but I can’t resurrect this conversation. I’ve killed it dead. Anyway, I can’t tell him that I think I might be bi! I’ve not told anyone yet!
Sorry for rambling, but I needed to get that off my chest, because Guy’s possibly-flirting comment got me thinking. What if I had been single that night? I don’t think I could have told him that I was bi. I mean, I don’t even know if I am or not. But how the hell do I find out? I cast my gaze around the room at that party and asked myself, am I attracted to any of these guys? In short, the answer was no. None of them really got my pulse racing like some of the women at the party did. But maybe that was because of my fear. I’m new to the feelings that I’m having, and I’ve become normalised to the idea that sexuality is clear-cut. People are either gay, straight, or sometimes bi. Sexuality isn’t fluid, nor are there any grey areas. Or so I thought, until a couple of years ago.
It seems that society has taught me to accept that some people aren’t heterosexual. Yet, at the same time, I seem to have absorbed the idea that gay sex is repulsive and undesirable. I have a long way to go, and a lot to learn. I better get learning fast.
Maybe I’ll talk about this another time. Right now I don’t have the energy.
Me
x
30/08/14 PS
Me,
I’ve just been dancing to Shopping (https://soundcloud.com/shoppingband) in my living room with a can of lager. Oh, and I decided to get an earring, I think. I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll decide tomorrow.
Can you tell I’m indecisive yet?
Fuck feeling crap,
Me.
x
30/08/2014
Dear me,
It’s me again! It’s convenient for me to talk now so I’ll write what I’m thinking and think about what I’m thinking later.
A couple of weeks ago, someone asked a friend if I was gay and single because apparently my smile is ‘beautiful’. Oh gaaawd, I thought, how awkward. I hate romantic – if you’d call it that? – attention because I never know how to react to it. Well, I’m heading off to a party in a few hours, and there’s a good chance this guy will be there. That’s just some background info though, don’t worry about that. I’m not really interested, I have a girlfriend whom I adore, I don’t really know how I feel about this whole sexuality thing so let’s just avoid all of that.
Anyway, my friend told me that he’d replied negative to both questions – I’m neither single, nor am I gay. The pragmatist in me thought fine, no problem. But I felt odd, on edge almost. That my best friend had told someone unequivocally that I am not gay made me a little angry. No, not angry. Queasy. But queasy isn’t the right word, because it implies that I felt ill. I didn’t feel ill, I just felt something very alien. He didn’t have any reason to believe otherwise, though – he had no reason to think that I might not be gay. I mean, we’ve had long and searching discussions on the nature of sexuality, and that one is never really either ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ or even ‘bi’, but that sexuality is more of a sliding scale of sorts. Even in these discussions, however, I never really gave the impression that I was any more than a teensy bit bi.
Even though my best friend had, and still has, no idea that I get funny fluttery feelings for men; even though he has no idea that the male anatomy can get my bloody pumping and my sweat glands squeezing; it still felt wrong that he should pronounce to someone that I was not gay.
I didn’t feel like he had wronged me, not at all. He had reason to pronounce otherwise. I guess I felt, and still kinda feel, like I have wronged myself. I feel like I ought to be telling the truth about myself, but does that mean that I have to tell my friends that hey, I might be gay, I might be bi, I might just like cocks a bit more than the average guy? I guess what I’m trying to say, in a very roundabout way, is that I need to feel sure of myself before I come out and say it to other people.
Thanks for listening to me, I appreciate it.
Ever yours,
Me
x
The Friend: Don’t all kids do this?
When I was in first grade, I had a best friend. We hung out, went on adventures, and just had an all around great time. One day we were like, “let’s play doctor!” Okay, so I’ve been told all children are curious, but I loved it. We laid down and examined each others naked bodies. She would open her legs for me so I could examine her vagina, and I did the same for her. It became our favorite game. One day she was like, “I wonder what it tastes like,” and she touched me and licked it. She was like, “It tastes good! Try!” and I’d do the same to her.
We grew apart and met other friends. I also moved to a home that was a little less convenient for our friendship, plus, my mom had just recently threw my diary at me and called me gay…
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29/08/2014
Dear me,
I’ve decided to write this blog as a series of letters to you, my future self, because I’ve realised I don’t really know how the hell to write a blog. I’m used to writing essays or articles, things with a purpose. That’s not to say that this is purposeless, just that to embark on a journey of self-discovery, or self-reflection – see? I don’t really know what I’m doing here – isn’t really a purpose. Not in the purposeful sense of the word, anyway.
Where do I begin? I got Tinder a few weeks ago, and then got rid of it. I downloaded it as a joke, or so I told everyone – if I’m honest though, I think to some extent I wanted to see how much attention I would get. Given the recent developments on the sexuality front, I put a little blue tick in the boxes ‘Interested in: Men, Women’. It turns out I’ve been doing dating wrong all these years. For every admirer that was a woman, I must have had at least fifteen or twenty male ones. Apparently I have a cute and/or beautiful smile. And apparently some guys really want to fuck me, even though I never have nor never will speak to them.
It also turns out that sending dick pics to Tinder matches is a thing. At first I was a little disgusted, but then I found it kind of arousing. Not in the ‘Hmmm, I’d love to go on a date with this guy’ kinda way, but more in the ‘Hmmm, I wonder what it’d be like to grasp that in my palm’ kind of way. You know what I mean? No? Ah well. Weird thing is, guys fully dressed don’t seem to arouse me that much. I’ve given it a lot of thought and concluded that it’s probably the result of years of being surrounded by, and participating in, the objectification of women.
That’s all I really have to say at the moment. Sorry that the letters aren’t particularly regular, but I guess I’ll just write them when I get the chance and when I have something to get off my chest.
All the best,
Me
x
here we are.
So, this is where it begins. I’m fairly new to blogging, and totally new to writing about my sexuality. In fact, I feel like I don’t really know much about my sexuality right now – and the fact that I’m doing this on private browsing should say something about my fears and trepidation.
I shouldn’t be scared. I’m from the UK, a country which has seen pretty significant progress on LGB (lesbian, gay and bi) issues.* I turn 20 in a couple of weeks, I’m a white cis man, and for 19 years of my life I thought I was as straight as a ruler. I’ve been in three hetero relationships, one of which lasted almost three years. I’m in a hetero relationship right now. In fact, my partner identifies as bi herself. All of my closest friends understand this issue in-depth. I have gay friends, I have bi friends. I couldn’t be in a more accepting circle of friends. In theory, it should be easy to come out as bi.
But it isn’t.
You see, the problem isn’t that I’m scared of people’s reactions. I’m scared of myself. It’s terrifying that I don’t know what to think about my sexuality, something about which I used to be so cocksure. I’m full of questions, but have no answers.
How do I really know that I’m bi?
How do I know that I’m straight?
If I’ll never know for sure, should I come out?
Am I not just exaggerating my confusion, being attention-seeking?
Compare my problem to others’ – trans people’s, for example – can I really complain?
Maybe one day I’ll have some answers. That’s the purpose of this blog, anyway – kinda like a travel diary as I cautiously explore my sexuality.
At least I know this: Happy Pride 2014.
*[As a side-note: I’ve missed out the “TQ*” on that acronym because people of non-conformist genders have not seen much progress here. We’re still in the dark ages on that issue.]
Not Seeing Straight 