In my entry yesterday, I had mentioned the possibility of me blogging about growing up as a gay man. I had already been contemplating the idea for a few months prior to even writing yesterday’s entry, but I just couldn’t get myself to do it. Now, I think I have worked up the courage to talk about this subject. The reason why I have been hesitant to discuss this topic in the past, is because my homosexuality has at times been a great source of turmoil in my life. The darkest moments in my life have been linked to my homosexuality, and it can be attributed to a weak sense of self and a miserable self image growing up. My tendency to self-censor has prevented me from writing about these topics in the past.
With that, I would like to introduce a new series to my blog: Growing Up, Gay. I hope that this series can bring some insight to at least one person about what it is like to grow up as a homosexual, and perhaps help me grow by pushing my limits as a blogger. Even now I am contemplating closing out of this window, and never publishing this post.
For the first installment of this series, I want to talk about something that I have been asked many times. “When and how did you know you were gay?” This is a question that I have been asked by my peers many times, sometimes people are just curious but other times it is followed by a “because I think I might be…” I always tell these people that for as long as I can remember the signs were there, but it wasn’t until around puberty when it really started becoming apparent to me that I was gay.
What I don’t usually tell them is that at first, there was a quite a bit of denial and fear about the possibility. For a few years I was so afraid of being gay that I hoped and hoped that it would just be a phase, and that I would one day be attracted to women like I was attracted to other men. That day obviously never came… I spent a lot of time pretending to be interested in the same things that the other boys were interested in, even going so far as to have girlfriends. Looking back, it probably wasn’t fair for the girls who I dated for me to lie to them like that — but honestly, it’s not like those relationships ever had a chance anyway…we were in middle school.
Eventually, at around the age of 12, I stopped lying to myself — though it wouldn’t be for some time that I would stop lying to others.
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