Wow, after reading a blog about discovering one’s bisexual identity (http://assentive.wordpress.com/2014/06/08/what-led-you-to-your-bisexual-identity/, what AssentivelyYours wrote lit up a few lights in my head because I’ve been bisexual for so long, that moment of discovery kinda gets buried in my memories even though, as I had commented on this blog, I didn’t discover bisexuality inasmuch as it discovered me.
Still, there was a turning point or a defining moment, a point in time that I’ve learned a lot of male bisexuals seem to go through, that precise moment when he has to come face-to-face with his sexuality. As I wrote my comment to AY’s blog, I felt myself frowning a little because it took ten whole years of being sexually intimate with boys and girls for me to question – and I mean seriously question – what I was, what I had been doing over all that time and what it all meant going forward. I still think that at the moment I had this… revelation, it was superfluous; the answer had been given to me literally mere minutes after having sex with my wife; today, I feel kinda stupid about that moment because I had asked myself if I was gay and, no, I really don’t know or remember why I happened to ask myself this when I did; I don’t recall where my head was but knowing how my noodle tends to work, I had probably been thinking about just getting out of bed with her and it somehow related the feelings of sexual satisfaction with a time I had felt the same way with a guy – probably; I’m not gonna bet the house on that one.
I remember that moment and how I had beaten myself up in the beginning of what probably was the most introspective moment I’ve ever had. I went back to the beginning and slowly worked my way forward and, man, it was weird because it was plain to see that I’d have sex with a guy or a gal and not give a lot of thought about it. I hadn’t known the word “bisexual” existed until, oh, say, five years before my revelation; given my near-insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge, I practically lived in the public library trying to absorb everything I could get away with about this bisexual thing that, hey, I’d been doing all along! So it wasn’t like I didn’t know what it meant or even what it implied… what I didn’t know and what I eventually had to figure out what what did it all mean to me, what it said about me and, importantly, how it was going to affect my life going forward.
It was a bad time for me as I faced the truth about my sexuality and sexual behaviors, the good and bad experiences I’d had to that point and, fuck, I admit to having been so terribly confused and even shamefully oblivious because, as I said, I already knew the answer to the question of whether or not I was really gay – I just couldn’t see it… or, perhaps, I somehow didn’t want to accept it. Today, jeez, I was the dumbest smart guy on the planet at that moment! I ask myself how it was possible for me to not accept that which was painfully obvious? I agonized over it for months – and while still doing my thing with both men and women! Today I know that all I was doing was proving my point: I wasn’t gay, I was never gay… but the answer – the truth of it all – continued to escape me; I was totally blind to the answer.
One day, I was with a guy I knew. We began our tryst with some great oral sex and even with a little cuddling after we nutted to set the stage for the anal sex phase. I fucked him first and I know my mind was awhirl with the delicious nastiness of fucking another guy in the ass, just sinfully rolling around in all the sights and sounds of the moment… but it wasn’t until he was sliding his dick into me that the question appeared. It was feeling good and I was so into it, my mind already looking forward to feeling him exploding in my butt and my stupid brain said, “Hey, ya know, you’re really enjoying all of this – are you sure you’re not really gay?”
I somehow managed to shove the very disturbing question aside but it had already taken some of the fun out of being fucked; the guy’s pounding his dick into my ass in a very good way but I lay under him still distracted because echoing through my mind was the question, “Are you gay? Huh? Are you?” I don’t know if he noticed that I wasn’t as into what he was doing, not like when he started and when he came inside me, I was about as bummed out as I could be and totally pissed with myself for ruining what should have been another great sexual encounter with this guy. All that moment did was make me look deeper inside of myself: I had to find the answer to this question one way or the other because it was starting to interfere with the other aspects of my life.
I recall the day that the truth – and the answer – finally landed on me like a ton of bricks. I had made love to my wife and, oh, I guess about a couple of hours later, I was getting busy with one of our male neighbors. I was right in the middle of sucking his dick when my brain declared, “Yo! Guess what? You’re not gay – you really are bisexual!”
Oh, thanks a lot…
After we gave each other some rather nice blow jobs, I was fairly vibrating with joy – I can’t think of any other word to describe how I felt to have finally gotten the answer to my question… but it now begged another question: Now that I accepted the truth about myself in this, now what? And I’ve spent every day of my life after this day refining my bisexual identity, working out how it could be integrated into my life and, hopefully, without any kinks. And there were kinks and they weren’t little ones. I eventually gave up anal sex… then fell in love with another man… but those two “highlights” didn’t change my bisexual identity or, to be more precise, they didn’t change the truth that I was, indeed, quite bisexual. Other truths followed, like, yeah, you don’t have to have anal sex to validate your sexuality and, nope, falling in love with a man doesn’t mean that you’re gay or even want to be because love is what it is and it’s not as gender-specific as we’ve all been told it should be. Accepting the truth – and I can’t really think of any other way to put this – was… telling; it took the tarp off of an openness that had always been there but hadn’t been paid attention to.
Accepting the truth about yourself in this can be so liberating, like a great weight has finally been removed from you.
One thing that AY mentioned in his blog got my attention. It’s a kind of separation, kinda like drawing a line between whatever you might have done in your pre-teen years and, let’s say, being an adult, as if what you did then and what you’re doing now are two different things. Having had other men talk to me about their sexuality in these terms, I’ve always found it curious because it’s a difference that doesn’t appear to make a difference… yet it did in the minds of the guys I spoke with. I allowed that I don’t recall ever drawing a line between what I did pre-teen and what I did after that because it was all the same thing; the only thing that changed was my approach to it all – experience is, after all, a damned good teacher. Yeah, I know that things changed but it wasn’t like I was “putting away childish things” in that sense; I sucked dick as a pre-teen and still did it as an adult… so what could possibly be different about that? Yep, I learned that a lot of guys would chalk their pre-teen experiences up to experimentation, as if this mean that whatever they were doing wasn’t really sexual and in some meaningful way, like one guy who told me that he had a first time sucking cock with another man even though he had did this several times before becoming an adult. I remember asking him why he thought the two experiences were different and he said, “Um, I was a kid…” – and his answer made me wonder if he hadn’t completely accepted the truth about himself, like invoking childish ignorance in such things could – or does – change the fact that he had been sucking cock all along, from the first time he did it, to the last time he did it and, yes, he confessed to wanting to suck my dick – but it wasn’t the time or place for that.
I came to understand how guys who’ve been active in this can become conflicted when they go on to be like a lot of other men and are more “into” women and a life with them… but that desire to be with a man is still there, maybe out of mind but clearly not forgotten; it makes them ask a question similar to the one I asked myself and it’s like some of them go through “phases” of denial, being angry with themselves, feeling conflicted or otherwise confused about a truth they carry within themselves that’s at odds with the obvious fact that, yeah, they love women. I can feel a kinship with these men ’cause I’ve been there, had my moment of crisis that made me see the truth; it wasn’t just some boyish experimentation, not when you start doing it and even over time continue to do it and while still very much enjoying all the pleasures a woman can bring to the table.
There’s not many things that can compare to the moment when you accept the truth about yourself, to be able to say, “Yeah, I’m bisexual!” even if no one else knows. You know, even if no one else knows, that it isn’t a phase, that it isn’t some form of sexual expression that’s more fake than real – your bisexuality isn’t trendy, chic, or hip – it’s just the way you are and, for some of us, the way we’ve always been. I learned – and try to show – that even when one accepts the truth, it is what it is… but it never remain static in that you’re always working at either making it fit in your life or working on not letting it get in the way with having a girlfriend or wife. Maybe you stop being active in this for the sake of that good relationship; maybe you change the way you’re being active and based on a lot of other factors – the girlfriend or wife I mentioned or the fact that trying to find other men to engage with isn’t as easy – or as safe – as you’d like it to be.
But it all starts with accepting the truth, doesn’t it? The truth, as it tends to be, isn’t always easy to accept when you’re the one who has to accept it but when you do, you can say – and with a great degree of comfort and surety:
I am bisexual. Maybe it’s not as… comfortable as saying that you’re heteroflexible or “bi with the right person” – that one always cracks me up – and the truth can, as I’ve seen, make some folks so uncomfortable that they will find any reason that makes sense to them to deny that they’re not the duck they really are, like insisting that they can’t be bisexual because they can’t or won’t have a same-sex relationship or that it’s not something they do all of the time… even when the truth of it all says that, no, these aren’t things that make any difference in this and it never did. I’m not saying that people can’t think in whatever way makes them comfortable – after all, it is about whatever you think works for you in this… but the truth is still there and the real truth cannot be found in the literal definition of bisexuality; I can understand just how fucking scary the implications the definition can bring to the table and more so if you enjoy the sex but not any of the emotional attachments the word implies – you just have to be aware that it is possible, that just because it doesn’t fully apply to you doesn’t mean that others can’t feel this way.
Time to put in some work on my fractal puzzle… and thanks to AssentivelyYours for the inspiration for this writing.