About a year ago, when I first started writing this blog, I decided I should make a few concessions in personal life. One such concession was how I viewed my sexuality. My whole life I’d had always identified as gay, but I thought that a good sex educator should open themselves to new experiences. I convinced myself that if I ever wanted to be as cool as Kidder Kaper or Violet Blue that I should try a taste of the bi. So, I adopted a new sexuality; when asked I would tell people that, “I’m gay but shit happens.” I felt like it was a simple way of allowing my 98% majority sexuality prominence while acknowledging the 2% minority that usually rises after a couple shots of Stolichnaya. The simple change in nomenclature allowed me to reinterpret how I saw my sexuality. No longer was I just some gay dude, I was an open and wanton sexually expressive dude, which made me feel special.
I’ve never felt completely comfortable within my sexuality. So, when people would ask about my sexual preferences I would say that I was gay, but when I was extremely uncomfortable it wasn’t uncommon for me to fabricate a much more bi leaning or pansexual persona. That discomfort stemmed from the insecurities with my sexuality, and my chronic social anxiety. The new asterisk in my sexual declaration served the purpose of giving me the comfort and cool factor that I sought. With my new sexuality firmly grasped, like a permission slip on field trip day, I set out to explore the bright pink new world.
The overall experience was… interesting, mainly from a psychological and anthropological standpoint. Experiencing all of the precarious and frustratingly awkward situations upon which I stumbled as an adult, gave me unique insight into the minds of young straight kids. What I found most interesting and distressing was how dreadfully awful I was in almost every situation. I don’t know if you know this, but talking to girls is hard.
Except for a pair of experiences when I was twelve, I was, and in many ways continue to be, completely inexperienced with the opposite sex. Talking to them was awkward, and uncomfortable; I was definitely out of my element of comfort and expertise. Even though I say “expertise”, when it comes to talking with guys I’m still very nervous; this was like casting someone with stage fright to star in the Broadway revival of Les Miserables. After a year of mishaps and shenanigans, I never improved or progressed at being straight. Last night I decided to cut my losses and put a merciful end to this charade.
I tried to make things work, but no matter what happened I never felt completely comfortable. To be honest, I felt like the situation was one that I shouldn’t be in. Thinking back, I realize that my original motivation vanished to stealthily replaced by a misguided sense of curiosity. Sometimes my intense and perpetual curiosity is my best asset, other times it can put me in situations that are questionably beneficial at best.
I started this experiment because I wanted to be one of the cool kids, I wanted to be like the sex educators I look up to. With the clarity of hindsight, I realize that those people are simply expressing their sexuality, not playing up a façade for cool points. It’s clear to me now that I was making a mistake.
So where does this leave me? I’m not quite sure. I do know that I am definitely not questioning my sexuality. I do know that I would still like to leave myself open to new experiences with the “shit happens” asterisk. However, I will be treating it much differently; I am redefining it to mean that I am allowed to be open to new situations of all sorts, not that I have to seek out snatch to snatch. It’s a very important distinction. I also know that I, like you have a great deal of work to do within myself to get to a place where I can be fully contentin my sexuality.
Sex educators should be champions of an attainable sexuality. Unfortunately, too often people, including myself, get the impression that these wise and edified people are infallible. This situation has put me in a unique position where I can show you the faulty, insecure, vulnerable, realistic, and human version of sexuality that you should see. There is not much about the last 365 days of my sexual life that I will hold on to fondly, but if I can give you this gift then I know what it was worth. Much more than usual, I hope that my story reaches and touches many of you. I hope that my time spent pursuing the pussy platter can help you in some way. It did help you right? Please tell me it did, those unspeakable things need to be worth something.
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