When I was five, I had an overwhelming desire to play with Barbies. I can remember one such case where I was with my family at a grown up party, and the all kids had been let loose in the house to play on their own. The boy who lived there had an older sister, and I went to her room to see if her and her friends had any Barbies, and asked if I could play with them, they laughed and said, "boys don't play with Barbies." I never asked to play with Barbies again.
When I was around the same age, I wanted to wear a leotard, like the ones girls wear in gymnastics. So I asked my mom, and she got me a black one with white tights, and a green one with yellow tights. We would make the green and yellow one into a Robin costume with a red belt, yellow cape and yellow ® on the chest. The black leotard was for my own superhero. I can remember even at that young age getting boners in those leotards. I felt ashamed that girls clothes made my little PP hard.
I was a shy and reserved kid, always afraid of sexual curiosity. I chickened out when it came my turn to strip after an older girl and I had made a deal. I couldn't get the courage to make my "two minutes in the closet" a worthwhile event. I was a repressed kid, crippled by my own fears and confusion about intimacy and attraction.
Only a year ago I figured out and admitted to myself that I am bisexual. I wonder how my life would have been different had I the courage to accept my childhood TV crushes on Ponch, BJ McKay, and the Karate Kid. If I had the support of family and community that bisexuality was as beautiful as any part of me, if those feelings weren't repressed for all these years, how would I be different?
I'm still in the closet. I've only told a few people, and one of them I don't even trust anymore. I'm living a virtually celibate life of secret desires and lonely desperation, still too afraid to reach out and act on these indelible urges.
When I was around the same age, I wanted to wear a leotard, like the ones girls wear in gymnastics. So I asked my mom, and she got me a black one with white tights, and a green one with yellow tights. We would make the green and yellow one into a Robin costume with a red belt, yellow cape and yellow ® on the chest. The black leotard was for my own superhero. I can remember even at that young age getting boners in those leotards. I felt ashamed that girls clothes made my little PP hard.
I was a shy and reserved kid, always afraid of sexual curiosity. I chickened out when it came my turn to strip after an older girl and I had made a deal. I couldn't get the courage to make my "two minutes in the closet" a worthwhile event. I was a repressed kid, crippled by my own fears and confusion about intimacy and attraction.
Only a year ago I figured out and admitted to myself that I am bisexual. I wonder how my life would have been different had I the courage to accept my childhood TV crushes on Ponch, BJ McKay, and the Karate Kid. If I had the support of family and community that bisexuality was as beautiful as any part of me, if those feelings weren't repressed for all these years, how would I be different?
I'm still in the closet. I've only told a few people, and one of them I don't even trust anymore. I'm living a virtually celibate life of secret desires and lonely desperation, still too afraid to reach out and act on these indelible urges.
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