Misogyny is defined as the hatred of women. So, what about sexual hatred of women? I had this thought the other day, as I was reflecting on my path to get where I am now with my sexuality. I wondered if my bisexuality is just a natural outcome of my failures with women. Am I so embittered and hurt that I'm intensifying my gay urges, focusing on them, when it's nothing more than pure, unmitigated desperation?
Women always seem threatened by me. I am an intense person, yes, but I think that my outward honesty and the fact that I "wear my emotions on my sleeve" just turns them off. Women have an uncanny way of being able to sniff out my desperation, so it has a snowball effect. The less I get laid, the less chance I have of getting laid. It is one of life's cruel ironies. I don't know if I have an angry or violent vibe (with what I've been through I suppose I do), but I always strike out with women. I have not had a relationship in seven years, though I have been "dating" this whole time, and that's a whole other tragic story too lengthy and off-topic for this post.
A few years ago when I was exploring my inner feelings, mustering the courage to face my gayness, I asked a gay friend of mine how and why he knew he was homosexual. He said, "I'm gay because of my mother." I didn't question his reason, or ask him to go into it further. I wish I had now, because I wonder if his gayness is an expression of misogyny. Did something happen to make him hate his mother, and that hatred now extends to all women? Or was he merely saying that she gave him the "gay gene"? Regardless, the whole idea of blame in being gay doesn't make sense to me anymore. Blame is nothing more than a transference of guilt.
As I become more distanced, more lonely, more desperate, I become less and less attractive to women. This leads to a feeling of helplessness, because each interaction with women becomes worse than the last. Soon I am practically weighing jail time against pussy. Should I just get a whore, or worse, rape my way to satisfaction? With the seemingly impossible task of ever getting any pussy again in my life, cock gets more attractive by the minute.
Women always seem threatened by me. I am an intense person, yes, but I think that my outward honesty and the fact that I "wear my emotions on my sleeve" just turns them off. Women have an uncanny way of being able to sniff out my desperation, so it has a snowball effect. The less I get laid, the less chance I have of getting laid. It is one of life's cruel ironies. I don't know if I have an angry or violent vibe (with what I've been through I suppose I do), but I always strike out with women. I have not had a relationship in seven years, though I have been "dating" this whole time, and that's a whole other tragic story too lengthy and off-topic for this post.
A few years ago when I was exploring my inner feelings, mustering the courage to face my gayness, I asked a gay friend of mine how and why he knew he was homosexual. He said, "I'm gay because of my mother." I didn't question his reason, or ask him to go into it further. I wish I had now, because I wonder if his gayness is an expression of misogyny. Did something happen to make him hate his mother, and that hatred now extends to all women? Or was he merely saying that she gave him the "gay gene"? Regardless, the whole idea of blame in being gay doesn't make sense to me anymore. Blame is nothing more than a transference of guilt.
As I become more distanced, more lonely, more desperate, I become less and less attractive to women. This leads to a feeling of helplessness, because each interaction with women becomes worse than the last. Soon I am practically weighing jail time against pussy. Should I just get a whore, or worse, rape my way to satisfaction? With the seemingly impossible task of ever getting any pussy again in my life, cock gets more attractive by the minute.
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