Self-Hating Gay Stigma to Self-Acceptance.
It took me so many years to finally admit to myself that I was a gay man. Looking back, it is clear that I knew this right from the moment I could think. It wasn’t as if a great big rainbow came out to me or that the words G-A-Y were written on my bed. I just knew it. There were very subtle but important signs. I noticed that when there was a man around, I would get flushed. When I reached my teens, I took extra care to ensure that no boy ever touched me…even casually. The other kids took it that I was so homophobic that I could not bear another man to get close to me. There was a running joke that I was more extremist than the extremists. Some even called me the gay slayer.
I shudder to think of all those boys I terrorized because I knew that they were like me. Their campiness was my campiness. I knew that I liked what they liked but I had hidden so long that I was able to lie to myself. One of the most pathetic things in the world is when you actually lie to yourself. It is the final admission that you have completely lost touch with reality. When I did eventually come out, people’s jaws literally dropped. It was impossible that this Matt the super-straight, the macho man, the alpha male was into guys. One of them had actually told me long time ago that “it is guys like you who like dick. You like dick. I know it”. He meant it as a comeback to my taunts but it hit home. I was furious and could feel the blood rushing to my eyes. Here was a kindred spirit who knew my torments.
A Homophobe without a Cause
I think if you asked people about the ideal parents and family; they would all point out mine as a shining example. I can really not complain about my darling parents. My mum was a secondary school biology teacher and my dad was a builder with his own business. You could not ask for more understanding parents. They taught us to love one another and the world. My dad used to say that everything in the world would be ok if we just started to think about one another. I love my three brothers and two sisters to bits. We were a big family but my dad ensured that we had absolutely everything that we needed, even though he had to say no on certain luxuries. It is always puzzling to me how such genuinely lovely people could have spawned a potential bigot.
When gay issues were discussed in the home, my parents were surprisingly tolerant. My mother would say that we must learn to accept people as they are rather than as we want them to me. My dad would say “each to their own”. His view was that unless they were “harming kids” or “forcing themselves on someone”; it was “nobody’s business what they did with their bits”. My siblings were typical children. They started off not caring, became a little homophobic in the teens and then went the other PC way after college. For my part, I was always the one that was raging about the gays and the self-hating gay agenda. I lost count of the number of times I would secretly listen to some pastor raging against the evils of these “pedophiles”. Somehow the fire and brimstone speeches would make me feel cleansed.
That is the thing: I always felt that being a self-hating gay was somewhat dirty. I always thought about the sex act and was too disgusted to even contemplate it any further. But then there was always that fine line between love and hate. We used to have banter in the locker room with the guys stimulating sex and talking about how we were all going to get pregnant with one another. For them it was one big joke. I was too embarrassed when I realized that the blood was going where it should not go and I was getting aroused. My dreams were about men and I so desperately wanted them to be women. We try watching porn but I would be looking out for the guys instead of the girls. When my mates went wild with lesbian porn, I was completely put off.
One of the naughty ones used to say that he would have no problem doing it with a gay guy. For him a “hole is a hole”. I was totally disgusted with myself for fantasizing. He then said that if they gave him a million dollars, he would allow himself to be “the woman”. Greg joked that he would use part of the bills to recover from the pain and suffering. They all did not know that I was hiding this big secret that could any minute show me up to the hypocrite that I really was. The thing that is most surprising is that nobody actually bothered to find out why I was so vehemently against the gays.
Self-Hating Gay, Anti-Gay Warrior
There was a gay-straight alliance club in my school and I was known for making fun of the guys that joined. Most of the straight guys were actually just looking for hot liberal chicks. I made it my mission to turn people against the alliance. I even once suggested that the people who joined must be secretly self-hating gay. It is ironic that all those guys are happily married with kids and I am just beginning to live my life at 40. It is pathetic how much time I wasted, how many people I turned down and how my hate I spread during my deep closet years.
When I was sixteen, the pressure to have sex and announce it to the world became too much. I had resisted it for long but I had to prove myself. Linda was this sweet girl who was hopelessly in love with me. We all knew that she was a virgin so I imagined it would not be too difficult to convince her. The shame of it all!!! My man simply refused to stand up. I could not believe what I was experiencing. Here was this hot girl offering herself to me and the thing was just limping. I could have killed it there and then if not for the pain involved. Linda looked perplexed then embarrassed. A solution then came to me in an instant. I started to think about Jeremy from the sports club.
I had had this dream many, many nights with more heated scenes by the hour. Now it could come into handy, rather than as foreplay to yet another session of furious masturbation. The thought of Jeremy just brought my man right up and I started pumping like crazy. Linda was a bit annoyed afterwards saying that it seemed I wanted to destroy her. I apologized. She must have told her friends because the rumor started going around that I was an animal in bed and that no girl should approach me unless she had the stamina to keep up with my antics. The rumor was a godsend. Suddenly I was known for breaking in so many girls, some of whom I had never known in my life. The truth is that Linda was my only experience with a woman. I have never slept with another woman.
Finding Gay Sex and Hoping for Love
The first time I was with a guy is memorable for many reasons. The first is that I was petrified that I had caught AIDS. The second was that it was the experience of my life. The third is that the guy just disappeared and switched off the phone. From what I gathered in our drunken courtship, he was an Albanian builder with no papers. He said I was his first, but I am not too sure about that. He seemed too good to be new to this. Anyway I took him into my flat and I had the time of my life. My man needed no rousing and everything seemed natural. I wanted him again but then the phone just went dead.
To be honest, the worry about catching something overtook my irritation that I had been used and dumped by an Albanian illegal. It was a release for me because I soon started exploring “the scene”. Meanwhile I never told any of my friends or family about what was happening in my life. As others brought girlfriends home, I remained resolutely single. It was after my 38th birthday that I decided enough was enough. I came out to my mother first, then my dad and finally to my siblings. I brought my boyfriend Len home. Just like they always do, my family never raised an eyebrow. It was my friends who were in absolute shock. Some said that I was lying. They could not believe that I was gay after all those years of a reputation built on years and internalized homophobia.