This is a question I’ve been asked a few times, so I thought maybe it warranted a blog entry. I can only explain how it happened to me, but maybe some other ‘late developers’ will relate.
From discussions with people who figured it out in their teens, they typically knew they were different the first time they were intimate with an opposite sex partner, or possibly even before. They simply knew that heterosexual intimacy didn’t work for them. They then quickly went on to figure out that same sex intimacy did.
Then there are those of us with a strong preference for same sex intimacy, but who can be contented with opposite sex intimacy too. We’re essentially a flavour of bisexual, but with a strong preference for same over opposite. People like us are in a position to do what society expects of us: reinforce our heterosexuality and repress our homosexuality. And that’s what so many of us do, especially when we’re younger and value ourselves more in terms of peer review. We worry too much about what others will think, so we conform, and make do.
Puberty was confusing. But then isn’t it supposed to be? I know most of my fantasies were same sex ones, but I could enjoy opposite sex ones if I chose to. For various reasons, I found myself in same sex environments for most of my teenage years. A little bit of experimentation went on at one point, but nothing too serious. It just reaffirmed the ‘wrongness’ of it, which was already established. Then I ended up at an all boys boarding school, where the worst thing you could possibly be was ‘queer.’ Nothing ever happened there, apart from the reaffirmation that I had a duty to try to be straight.
My next sexual experience happened with a guy I briefly shared a flat with. We’d converted the flat into what was basically three bedsits, and we’d often end up in my single bed, watching TV. No funny business (it was strictly hands-off) but that all changed one night after a few drinks. Clearly, we both wanted it to happen, but his self-loathing afterwards was a big shock. It nearly cost us our friendship, and in all honesty, things were never really the same after that (we haven’t spoken in years.) So we had yet another affirmation that ‘gay is wrong.’ A few years later, I developed a rather strong crush on a friend who’d just come out as gay. My mother spotted this, and gave a very emphatic “I’m not having any of that shit under my roof.” Yet another affirmation that ‘gay is wrong.’
After that, I went back to dating women, and ended up in a relationship that lasted over 15 years. What I found was that whenever I was in a sexually active relationship with a woman, I was perfectly contented and didn’t fantasise about anyone else. When between relationships, or when the physical side went off the boil within them, I’d revert to type, and mostly imagine myself with men. I wrongly concluded that I was a straight guy with kinky bi-curious fantasies, and that my interest in men was purely something that came from sexual frustration. This seemed reasonable, since it went away entirely when I had an active sexual relationship with a woman. A one-off experiment with a random guy seemed to confirm this. I didn’t enjoy it at all.
As my last heterosexual relationship (of over 15 years) started to break down, we declared it a ‘sexually open’ one and started to see other people (her suggestion, funnily enough.) Boundaries were agreed, men weren’t strictly off limits for me (and women weren’t for her) and I finally got a taste of what I’d been missing. The real penny drop moment was getting physical with a transvestite I actually had strong feelings for. It was different to the random meets. It actually felt natural. Very natural. Even when they weren’t wearing the dress, the wig or the make-up.
The truth is, I could have been contented as a practising heterosexual for my entire life. It would have been settling for second best, but it was workable, and it’s what I believed (and still believe) society expected me to do. It seems you get a special pass if you’re 100% gay and find opposite sex intimacy repellent, but those who do have a choice of which path to follow, are still expected to choose the heteronormative one.
We still see the “Born this way” argument, and it irks me. “Yes, we know we’re broken and we’re very, very sorry, but please don’t try to fix us, and please love us anyway.” Nobody should have to excuse or apologise for being LGBT, and it makes me wonder why so many people still do. Your practising sexuality is always a choice: if you have no interest in the opposite sex, then you can always abstain. This is, after all, the message that society and particularly religion has been hammering home since forever. They acknowledge that same sex attraction exists, but brand it as a temptation that must be overcome.
The way I prefer to look at it, being gay, bi or transgender should be acceptable as a lifestyle choice. If there’s nothing wrong with being something, then why can’t you choose to be that thing? And ultimately, I made that choice: to cease being a practising heterosexual and become a practising bisexual, and latterly to become a practising homosexual.
I see “Born this way” gaining traction in trans circles these days. “Trans people don’t choose to be trans.” This might well be true of someone who figured it out when they were 3 years old, always expressed it and never repressed it, but it’s harder to swallow for someone who kept it as a dirty secret until they were much, much older, and then flounced out of the closet so much later in life. So where does that leave those of us (who still fall under the transgender umbrella) who simply want to distance themselves from masculinity and embrace their femininity, who enjoy wearing dresses, and who can’t think of one rational reason why they shouldn’t? Answers on a postcard please.
