Identity Crisis

Gud04

Yesterday I was thinking whether or not I should be gay.

– You cannot choose a sexual orientation.

Yes I can.  Assuming that I am equally interested in males and females, I can choose who I want to be intimate with.

I spent most of my life embracing the straight (heterosexual) lifestyle.  Now, after two failed marriages, I find myself at a turning point.  I’m questioning everything and trying to redefine myself.  Who will the new me be?

– Do you want to be gay?

Yesterday I wrote:  “I want a man.”  This sounds pretty gay to me.  It’s not that I don’t like women.  But I had two wives already.  I never had a husband.  I think I would like to try it.  But then, friends and lovers are not things you “try.”  They happen.

– So what are you saying?

I don’t know.  It sounds confusing doesn’t it…

– Why did you start this post in the first place?

Oh yeah!  Yesterday I was wondering if I should be gay, but today I’m asking myself:  Why should my identity be based on a sexual orientation?

– It gives you focus.

True.  But it also puts up barriers.  Besides, I’m not looking for sex, I’m just trying to define my identity.

– What do you mean by “define” my identity?

Synonyms for Define = delineate, delimit, specify, delimitate.

Hmm…  It means to put up certain limits or barriers.  But what if my identity is to have no limits!  Does it mean that I cannot define who I am?

– How did you define yourself in your About page?

I wrote:  “Daemon is a free spirit…”  You see?  This is my most basic, true, profound identity.  I am a free spirit.  I am not even human.  I could be an alien for all I know.

– But what about your incarnation as a human male, are you ignoring it?

In this blog I am, yes.

– Why?

Because I wanted to focus on the spiritual.  Do you have a problem with that?

– I don’t, but you do.

You’re right.  I do.  I’m having an identity crisis.  It’s because of my physical body.  I’m not just a spirit, I’m responsible for the life of a physical human man.  So is it wrong to define myself as a spirit?

– Maybe you need to define the experiences that the spirit wishes to have on earth.

So I could choose to “be gay” in order to delineate my upcoming experiences, is that what you’re saying?

– Yep.

Interesting…  Something to think about…  There are so many possibilities…  I’m not even sure which experiences I wish to have.  Sometimes I feel so fed up with this world, I just want to pack my bags and leave (die).

Am I Gay?

Trust4

Here is a brief history of my sexual preferences from age 3 to 25.  It contains some explicit thoughts and some dirty words.

When I was a boy (from age 3 up to 12) I was physically attracted to ladies only.  But when puberty started, my attention turned to my penis and its erections.  I was intrigued by the pleasure I got when I did certain things with it.  I was 12 or 13 when I had my first ejaculation.

At that time, I became curious about boys my age and their penises.  I wondered if they pleasured themselves in secret just like I did.  My interest in the male form (physique) started to awaken also.  I began to notice the difference between cute guys from the not-so-cute ones.

At age 14, I started having wet dreams.  This was a surprise and an embarrassment — to wake up in a puddle of sticky sperm every now and then.  But the content of my dreams was what troubled me the most.  In these lucid dreams, I was almost always in the school yard and I would pull down a boy’s pants, suck his dick and then force him to suck mine.  These dreams disturbed me because I would find myself so excited when I woke up.  I thought I was turning into a homosexual and I was horrified!

In the meantime, in real life, I would date girls only.  Girls were attracted to me and it was easy to find a girlfriend.  I had many.  I would discreetly look at guys from the corner of my eyes, but would only allow myself to hug, fondle and French kiss girls.  I wanted my interest in guys to go away, but the more I repressed it, the more explicit my dreams became.

At age 19, I decided to do something about it.  I went to see a counselor.  I was so afraid to speak about this issue that prior to seeing him, I wrote everything down.  I scribbled a 5-page letter, spelling out exactly what I wanted to say to the counselor.  I remember walking into his office, sitting down, pulling out my letter, and starting to read.

Basically what I was telling him was that I was gay and that I had never been able to admit it to anyone, not even to myself.  My dreams proved to me that deep down I was gay.  I read the letter to the end without stopping.  I was shaking.  To me it was like admitting defeat:  I had failed as a man.  I thought that I would never be a real man, that I was doomed, that I was a loser.  I was ready for execution.  I wanted him to pull out a gun and shoot me, right there on the spot, no questions asked.

I finished reading the letter and I sat there, staring at the floor.  I didn’t want to look into his eyes.  I felt relieved but at the same time totally extinguished.  I thought my life was over.  Finally I looked up at him and he was smiling and he said:  “Daemon, you’re not gay.  Dreams don’t mean anything.  You’ve never had sex with a man.  How can you possibly know whether or not you are gay?”

I was shocked!  His comment was so unexpected.  I could not believe my ears.  I was also a bit disappointed because it had taken me 5 years to gather up enough courage to finally admit to someone my most secret fantasies, proving that I was gay, and he tells me that I am not!?  I was so surprised, I could not speak.  I simply stood up, thanked him, shook his hand and walked out.

From that moment on, whenever I would feel attracted to a guy, I would replay his words in my head, visualize his smile, hear his gentle, caring voice say:  “Daemon, you’re not gay.”  I chose to believe him.  Yes it was a choice and it was also what I wanted to believe, so I accepted it.

My physical attraction to females was a given.  I was attracted to women by default.  No doubt about that.  So the years went by and I continued chasing women and dreaming about sucking dick and at age 25, I married a young lady my age.

To be continued…  (maybe).

Just a Man

Gud07

Here’s the beginning of a man.  The one I call me.

I arrived on this planet in the form of a human baby.  The body which Mother Earth lent me was male.  I was born a Caucasian male in a large country located in the northern part of North America.

Since my body was male, I was expected to grow up to become a man.  This might sound obvious and simple but it was one of the biggest challenges I had to face in this life.

How do you BECOME a man?  Was I not a young man already?  Why did my father shout at me?  Why did he keep hitting me?  Why did he try so hard to make a man out of me?  Was I not destined to become one automatically?  I did not understand what he was trying to do.  I thought there was something wrong with me.  He gave me the impression that I was failing and that I might turn into a girl if I was not careful.

Does it even make sense?  Let me try to remember…

I’m starting to shake as I think about this.  I feel a pressure inside my chest.  My hands, my arms are trembling as I try to type and concentrate on what I intend to write.

“He gave me the impression that I was failing and that I might turn into a girl if I was not careful.”  This sentence brings back a profound fear that is probably still in me.  I wonder if girls/women can relate to this.  It sounds ridiculous.  A boy cannot transform into a girl if he’s not careful.

It took me years before I began to understand what was going on.  But in the beginning, I was really confused about this male thing.  All I could perceive, with my child’s eyes, was that my father hated me.  I did not know why he hated me.

The memories are coming back now.  He hated it when I cried.  He would kick me and yell at me to stop crying.  But the more he hit me, the more I cried.  I tried to seal my lips by holding my mouth shut so that no sound would escape, but then it would come out of my nose and my eyes until everything went blurry.

Eventually I learned how to hold back my tears, how to muffle my voice and how to stay as far from him as possible.  I don’t even remember him ever hugging me.  I thought he was a man.  I knew that I didn’t want to become like him.  So who or what was I to become?  This is probably when I started to dissociate from mankind.

I knew that I was a man.  I also knew that I was not like the men I knew.  There was not one adult man with whom I could identify.  And I knew that I was not a girl.  So what was I?  An alien man?