03-19-2010, 01:15 PM
warning wall o text
I have a confession. I’m not gay. To many this would come as no surprise or no intrigue but to me it is a scary realization. I have lived my life since I was 11 believing I was bisexual. This is not me saying how I've found the light of god or how I was turned straight or any of that bullshit. This is me telling you of a confused little child trapped in an abusive relationship at a very young age. That child is most obviously me. I knew him as my sister’s friend at first, two years my senior, and every now and then when I wasn’t being an annoying little pest to them they would let me play on the Sega with them and we had lots of fun. I was probably around 8 at the time. After awhile we even began to play during recess at school. One day we were walking around the field and we noticed a single tree against a fence that if under would completely hide you from view even if someone was right in front of it, which nobody ever was. This tall broad pine tree was way out in the field that nobody ever came that way; it was even hard to hear the school bell when it rang. We decided in our childish way to go and hide under it in the way that children find so enjoyable. This spot became “our spot†nobody could touch us here, nothing could hurt us here; except each other. By this time I think I had reached my ninth birthday, everyone had come to recognize that this person and I now held the status of friends. One time when we went under the tree maybe sometime in late may, there was no snow and it was quite warm, he decided, as most children do at his age, to experiment with these amazing little appendages we have called penises. This experimenting carried on for the better part of a year. At first it started with things as small as he would touch mine he’d get me to touch his and “sword fightsâ€Â. It kept escalating from there until he had the bright idea that when we got an erection it would fit most conveniently into the other persons anus. I didn’t really like the idea but as he was older I respected him and did what he told me to do. At first he tried to be “top†but I told him it hurt so that he would stop because I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea. This of course meant we had to try with me on top. And well all I can say is it felt good. Yes. I had my first sexual experience resulting in penetration at maybe about 10 years of age. From this point on I always jumped at the chance to go behind the tree. All I could think of at that age was how good it felt. I didn’t know anything about liking boys or girls I just wanted my fix. It’s funny in a dry sort of way. I was a sex addict at age 10. After awhile of this he was able to convince me to be bottom on punishment of me not getting top for awhile if I didn’t. It hurt for the first few times but I got used to it and even began to like it. It was at about age 11 that I learned about homosexuals and heterosexuals and what they mean. At the age I was I automatically placed myself in the homosexual category as the basic idea I got behind it was that homosexuals are men who have sex with other men. It was at this point that that the other boy and I were fast deteriorating as friends. He was hanging out with my sister more and what’s more he was very abusive. He continually hit me and he at various points choke-slammed me. But I still kept going back to him. Not for him but for the sex. I deluded myself into thinking I liked him because that’s what I had been told was what gay men did and that it was not only about the sex. I was a fool, an idiot, a child. By this time I was obviously very fearful of him and even if I tried to break my addiction to sex the addiction was both ways and we were each other’s only way to get a fix. If I tried to stop he hit me. Even after my parents banned him from the house after seeing the marks from his abuse on my body we both snuck out to see each other just so we could have sex. And he still hit me. And of course because the marks still kept showing up my parents thought that maybe someone else was doing the abuse and that I had lied so they let him back to our house. And so the system of abuse continued. When I was about 14 I was finally liberated. The boy I once called a friend was killed in a car accident. I refused to go to his funeral. And though the abuser was gone the delusion was still there. I thought that because I like having sex with guys that made me gay. And I knew by this time that I had an interest in girls, so a new word was added to my vocabulary, bisexual. I later on started going out with people girls and guys, guys discreetly. I kept deluding myself in thinking that I liked guys. I learned how to appreciate the male body, and even as I now realize I am a straight male I can still appreciate the male figure. I learned many of the mannerisms and characteristics of homosexual males. I have been told I'm a very empathetic person though I’m not to sure whether or not that is a result of who I am naturally or who I deluded myself into thinking I was. And I am easily capable of sex with a male. I’ve had a fair few same-sex partners and I’ve always felt lust though it was never lust for them, it was simply lust for an orgasm. I can honestly say that because of my delusion that I was bisexual I have gone through many of the difficulties that plague our homosexual youth. I have been beaten, I have been threatened, and I have been otherwise persecuted all because I believed I was bisexual. I even went through a phase of coming to terms with myself being bi. I have stood up and fought for gay right in my community I have done public speeches on how to help homosexual youths and I have helped many homosexual people come to terms with themselves and if they told their parents and got kicked out or disowned I gave them my bed to sleep in and I helped them find jobs so they could get back on their feet. And yet even after all that I found no inkling of satisfaction of being with a man other than sexual. I then met the person I’ve been with for 5 years now, a girl. I feel satisfaction, sexually, mentally, and spiritually. I’m not stating that I’m not gay simply because I’m in love with a girl but because even before I fell in love with her, even before I met her, I felt something with girls I never felt with guys. Now that I’ve been with the love of my life for some time now I decided to look into my past and I’ve realized I never liked the guys I was with. I was there for the body not the mind, and not even the whole body I was there for the parts between the thighs and the waist. And yet I was deluding myself into thinking that I did feel something. I was for the better part of my life an imposter, so skilled I fooled myself. Now I ask you of the LGBT community, can you forgive me?
If you have any replies or hate mail, send it to [email protected] I will read everything though I might not reply to it
I have a confession. I’m not gay. To many this would come as no surprise or no intrigue but to me it is a scary realization. I have lived my life since I was 11 believing I was bisexual. This is not me saying how I've found the light of god or how I was turned straight or any of that bullshit. This is me telling you of a confused little child trapped in an abusive relationship at a very young age. That child is most obviously me. I knew him as my sister’s friend at first, two years my senior, and every now and then when I wasn’t being an annoying little pest to them they would let me play on the Sega with them and we had lots of fun. I was probably around 8 at the time. After awhile we even began to play during recess at school. One day we were walking around the field and we noticed a single tree against a fence that if under would completely hide you from view even if someone was right in front of it, which nobody ever was. This tall broad pine tree was way out in the field that nobody ever came that way; it was even hard to hear the school bell when it rang. We decided in our childish way to go and hide under it in the way that children find so enjoyable. This spot became “our spot†nobody could touch us here, nothing could hurt us here; except each other. By this time I think I had reached my ninth birthday, everyone had come to recognize that this person and I now held the status of friends. One time when we went under the tree maybe sometime in late may, there was no snow and it was quite warm, he decided, as most children do at his age, to experiment with these amazing little appendages we have called penises. This experimenting carried on for the better part of a year. At first it started with things as small as he would touch mine he’d get me to touch his and “sword fightsâ€Â. It kept escalating from there until he had the bright idea that when we got an erection it would fit most conveniently into the other persons anus. I didn’t really like the idea but as he was older I respected him and did what he told me to do. At first he tried to be “top†but I told him it hurt so that he would stop because I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea. This of course meant we had to try with me on top. And well all I can say is it felt good. Yes. I had my first sexual experience resulting in penetration at maybe about 10 years of age. From this point on I always jumped at the chance to go behind the tree. All I could think of at that age was how good it felt. I didn’t know anything about liking boys or girls I just wanted my fix. It’s funny in a dry sort of way. I was a sex addict at age 10. After awhile of this he was able to convince me to be bottom on punishment of me not getting top for awhile if I didn’t. It hurt for the first few times but I got used to it and even began to like it. It was at about age 11 that I learned about homosexuals and heterosexuals and what they mean. At the age I was I automatically placed myself in the homosexual category as the basic idea I got behind it was that homosexuals are men who have sex with other men. It was at this point that that the other boy and I were fast deteriorating as friends. He was hanging out with my sister more and what’s more he was very abusive. He continually hit me and he at various points choke-slammed me. But I still kept going back to him. Not for him but for the sex. I deluded myself into thinking I liked him because that’s what I had been told was what gay men did and that it was not only about the sex. I was a fool, an idiot, a child. By this time I was obviously very fearful of him and even if I tried to break my addiction to sex the addiction was both ways and we were each other’s only way to get a fix. If I tried to stop he hit me. Even after my parents banned him from the house after seeing the marks from his abuse on my body we both snuck out to see each other just so we could have sex. And he still hit me. And of course because the marks still kept showing up my parents thought that maybe someone else was doing the abuse and that I had lied so they let him back to our house. And so the system of abuse continued. When I was about 14 I was finally liberated. The boy I once called a friend was killed in a car accident. I refused to go to his funeral. And though the abuser was gone the delusion was still there. I thought that because I like having sex with guys that made me gay. And I knew by this time that I had an interest in girls, so a new word was added to my vocabulary, bisexual. I later on started going out with people girls and guys, guys discreetly. I kept deluding myself in thinking that I liked guys. I learned how to appreciate the male body, and even as I now realize I am a straight male I can still appreciate the male figure. I learned many of the mannerisms and characteristics of homosexual males. I have been told I'm a very empathetic person though I’m not to sure whether or not that is a result of who I am naturally or who I deluded myself into thinking I was. And I am easily capable of sex with a male. I’ve had a fair few same-sex partners and I’ve always felt lust though it was never lust for them, it was simply lust for an orgasm. I can honestly say that because of my delusion that I was bisexual I have gone through many of the difficulties that plague our homosexual youth. I have been beaten, I have been threatened, and I have been otherwise persecuted all because I believed I was bisexual. I even went through a phase of coming to terms with myself being bi. I have stood up and fought for gay right in my community I have done public speeches on how to help homosexual youths and I have helped many homosexual people come to terms with themselves and if they told their parents and got kicked out or disowned I gave them my bed to sleep in and I helped them find jobs so they could get back on their feet. And yet even after all that I found no inkling of satisfaction of being with a man other than sexual. I then met the person I’ve been with for 5 years now, a girl. I feel satisfaction, sexually, mentally, and spiritually. I’m not stating that I’m not gay simply because I’m in love with a girl but because even before I fell in love with her, even before I met her, I felt something with girls I never felt with guys. Now that I’ve been with the love of my life for some time now I decided to look into my past and I’ve realized I never liked the guys I was with. I was there for the body not the mind, and not even the whole body I was there for the parts between the thighs and the waist. And yet I was deluding myself into thinking that I did feel something. I was for the better part of my life an imposter, so skilled I fooled myself. Now I ask you of the LGBT community, can you forgive me?
If you have any replies or hate mail, send it to [email protected] I will read everything though I might not reply to it
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
