IT'S A BEGINNING...
This is possibly a unique event in cyberspace -- a completely unintentional blog. I had been reading Closet Man [now Drew's Next Step] and Mind of A Bear, and found that much that they posted resonated with my own experience. So I wanted to send a line to Drew, and thought I needed an account to make a posting... imagine my surprise when it turned out to be a blog account I was opening. Well, so be it.
Here is what I had to say to Drew:
Here is what I had to say to Drew:
Drew:
I have been holding back from acting on what was made clear to me over twelve years ago -- because even mentioning the subject caused my wife so much distress. And I am not talking about sleeping with other people -- just admitting to everyone else, as I admitted to myself long ago, that I am gay. I honor your hesitation to "act out"; for me it is simply a question of fidelity, if the word can mean anything simple under the circumstances.
Things are a bit messier for me, in that my self-loathing has little to do with being gay, and everything to do with the fact that it is the world of leather, and Tom of Finland in particular, that makes me light up like a Christmas tree. Finding out that a big component of the leather world is the "daddy" fixation was like hitting a brick wall for me, and in retrospect a lot of things began to make sense that I had long denied. [Sound familiar?]
Unlike many of your blog compatriots, I was bisexually active in college, always desiring men and enjoying women [still pretty much the status quo, though after thirty years without any experience on one side of the street, who knows?]. I freaked out some people who weren't ready for my declarations of love, met with great compassion from others, found that love often did not survive a good whiff of the gym socks, and generally got away with murder.
What changed my life was a religious experience after college, as part of which I decided I could no longer act on my homosexual desires. Nowadays, that would not necessarily follow, but then, for me, it did. Thirty years later, however, I am beginning to see that if there has been no change in me by now, there probably won't be in the time I have left; and what I want is the freedom to be openly who and what I am. That is not simple. Because it requires some kind of balance between "who" I am: a man who chose to marry, and believes that marriage, and particularly his marriage, is a sacrament; with "what" I am: a particular flavor of gay man. Did I say it made sense? No, but it's my life.
In any case, I just wanted to say that I suspect the role that religion has played in our lives, for good and ill, is part of what led you, and the Bear Mind, and me, to where we are today. But it's also what makes our lives worthwhile and worth living. Did I say it made sense? No, but it's my life.
Well, that's more than enough for one day...
It is good to find a fellow-spirit in the blogosphere...thanks for the comment on my blog that led me to yours.
ReplyDeleteOur stories are not entirely the same, either - but we evidently have parked in front of a few of the same buildings. Many of the neighborhoods sound familiar...
I understand the self-loathing, even if I can't find any reason for it in a desire for leather or "daddy-dom." Plenty of str8 folks seem to have both fixations. I am coming to believe that our desires are not anything cause shame - even if the things that we sometimes do to satisfy those lusts can be shameful.
You were definitely "killing me softly with his song" when you wrote this:
Thirty years later, however, I am beginning to see that if there has been no change in me by now, there probably won't be in the time I have left; and what I want is the freedom to be openly who and what I am.
And like you, a great portion of my story is the relationship between my love of God, my life in church, and my own internalized homophobia. It's going to take a lot of talking, writing, praying, and acceptance to heal from that.
I'd share with you what my first AA sponsor said, sometime in the first week of my sobriety: "For many of us, the effort of our journey out of pain is hideously front-loaded. The longest part of almost any spiritual journey is the distance from the sofa to the front door."
Or, in my case, to the closet door.
It's good to be trudging the road with you.