This is a collection of testimonials from bisexual men expressing how they feel about their situation in the USA territory in which they live.
The stories vary because there are a lot of different layers of this since no one is really alike with sexual things, I mean, if they are honestly looked into, explored.
Most in the book, are happy to be bi. Some feel oppressed, unseen, by the outer world’s reaction to them and somewhat bitter about the whole thing. Many are annoyed by the bipolar assumptions of our time and see them as inaccurate, in the least, to intentionally dismissive of the variation they are.
They express feelings of not being comfortable with either of these poles.
I agree. The born this way gay culture is clearly not for me anymore than the exclusively heterosexual assumptions. So here is what I might write if I were involved with a book like this.
I consider myself lucky to be somewhere on the bisexual spectrum. I like to think that I am closer to basic pre-conditioned and trained, civilized, humanness by being this way, natural and more wild.
This is not a new concept for me. I have been like this for as long as I can remember. I mean from childhood back in Ohio where there were sexual encounters with other boys playing around doing this and that.
But even though that went on and was not unusual and really quite natural there was a sort of prohibition given USA sex attitudes and this was Ohio in the 1950s and early 60s. All this activity was done in secret, certainly away from parents. Yet it went on, not with all boys, but certainly not restricted to one or two boys. I guess I just assumed that it was what we did because it was fun and exciting with partly getting away with something.
But that period was tricky for me. There was an older boy who lived behind our little ranch style house in Ohio. I’ll call him Woody, because that was his name. I have been wondering how much older he was than me and just now did some internet poking around and found a man who kind of has to be him and who graduated from high school in 1965 which would make him at least 4 and probably 5 years older than I because I was born in November and unusually young when I began school at age 5, too young, but that’s another issue. Well, this kid was somehow into me sexually and he was involved with an incident that looms large in my mind because it was so terrible at the time.
There was a big apple orchard near where I lived and beyond the end of the orchard, a woods and a lake. One summer afternoon I was out with some of the older boys who I loved hanging out with. The frozen moment outside at the end of the orchard has the boys standing around me and me kneeling. I remember being persuaded to put someone’s penis in my mouth. I’m not sure how old I was then but I know it was before junior high because we had moved out of that neighborhood before I went to junior high. So I’m guessing 10 or 11, but I could have been younger since I lived in that house since age 5. And knowing what I know now it is probably better if I was 10 or younger than say 12 if the other boys were all Woody’s age 4 or 5 years older. Because then they would be getting rather old to be fooling around with this kid. And one would hope, being older, they could have come up with a more secure play area.
That day we were suddenly discovered by some girls and enough was going on and exposed that the girls had something to tell. The next thing I knew I was in the kitchen being interrogated by both of my parents regarding if I had put someone’s “pee pee” in my mouth. Honestly sitting here now I don’t know if I did or not. I remember some reluctance at the moment but that could have been added on later to support my story to my parents that nothing went on. Years later my dad told me that he had caught me with Woody another time in Woody’s family’s shed.
Now when I look at Woody’s two Facebook photos and read about how he spent his life, I find it interesting that he has chosen male power roles being an auxiliary cop, involvement with military and some marshal training thing. And there he is as an old man wearing navy whites with 4 small children standing with him, the only other people in his photos. I not saying he went on from back then to career predator, but those guys come from somewhere I suppose.
So is this my #metoo moment?
It could very well be. Woody had no other reason to be involved with me. I was just a little kid who lived down the hill. He had what I wanted, which was to be acceptable to these older boys.
Did this hurt me?
I mean I’m aware that my relationships with other men are not normal, whatever that means. I don’t have any close men friends.
I would describe part of my reaction to others men as being somewhat homophobic. By that I don’t mean some sort of hatred but rather a suspicion that they might be interested in something or that I am and all that is just below the surface and enough to confuse the desire to get together. It’s a subtle emotional background thing. After all, little me might think, what else do I have to offer being not otherwise successful or engaged in popular male interests?
Is this related to why I have been such an outsider with no career or anything like that when I had some sort of raw potential that is only apparent in hindsight.
I have stayed away from men professionally. I was in a band but it was with women, no men would want me in a band with them. I don’t rock!
So what goes on with me with men? I periodically seek anonymous encounters in places set up for that and maybe have a little oral or manual interaction. I don’t know maybe trying to recreate the setting at that moment in the orchard since it was loaded with such energy, emotion and interest. It doesn’t matter if they are old or younger.
But then I think I’m not that interested in men. I don’t see that many who I feel attracted to. Not into beefcake stuff and all that. Not interested in a man being involved with my emotions and have ugly thoughts that they are simply not that sharp, bright, or emotionally sophisticated enough to bother with. Or that they have some power agendum, want to sell me on something, want to check out what team I’m on maybe even politically. (Ugly because since I don’t hang with men I’m probably talking about something within me, within my own self image.)
So there you have it. I’m rather old now. Have a really lovely open relationship with a woman who can understand, so now that sex with other women is basically over due to my age and contentedness with my friend. I can say that I’m not on team straight and have no interest in being straight in its homo and hetro variations.
Feeling more free and loved in my relationship I have been having more male sex encounters than in the past when it was dormant for long periods or really toned way down. This feels healthy for me.
I think it might be interesting to have an actual male lover appear although I’m not searching. But people do just show up in my life with no effort from me.
I was in high school in Ohio when The Stonewall Action happened which is said to have set off the Gay Liberation movement. I remember thinking then, while I was just starting to be sexually active with girls my age, that the ideal with me was bi, capable of both clearly. I was not about to pick a team and never will.
Anyway, interesting book with writers of various abilities in self expression.
(You can deal with that if you’ve read this far.)
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