National Coming Out Day

Today is national coming out day.  Or international coming out day, I'm not entirely certain.  At any rate, I figured I should post something for it.

I find the model in this video attractive.  If he asked me, I would have sex with him.*  What makes that a significant statement is that I have identified as straight my entire life.  Am I all of a sudden not?  Maybe, but maybe not.  He is, after all, rather feminine in appearance.

I grew up rather sheltered and repressed, a logical consequence of being born into a fairly devout Christian family.  As a result, I had no idea that it was even possible to be attracted to someone of the same gender.  Gay people weren’t mythical bogeymen; they weren’t even a concept in my worldview.

The existence of gay people became very real to me when my brother came out.  At first, it made me uncomfortable.  But when I finally became an atheist, I also became an equal rights supporter.  It was not an easy road for me; it took a lot of conscious effort to finally reject the poisonous religion I’d grown up with.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with being gay.  I might even be a little bit gay myself, if you count a self-assessed score of 1 on the Kinsey scale.  I’ve come to the conclusion that I shouldn’t let something as small as a penis stop me from being attracted to someone.

Besides, I like the penis.  I find it kind of fascinating.  It’s really a remarkable little piece of biological engineering.  Sometimes I want to play with someone else’s just so I can examine it up close and experiment with it.  I never got to do that when I was younger, and I feel like I missed out on something.

But that’s not the only reason.  I also want to play gay just to spite the self-righteous religious bigots.  “Oh look, fundamentalists are preaching about the evils of being gay again.  Want to give each other blowjobs?”  It’s kind of like a drinking game, only with sperm instead of booze.

Maybe I’m a bit gayer than I’ve been self-identifying.  Maybe I’m overreacting to the repression of my youth.  Maybe this is my version of a mid-life crisis.  Maybe I’m coming to the conclusion that gender, at least for me, isn’t as relevant to physical attraction as I’ve always thought it was.  Or maybe I just haven’t been laid recently enough.  Perhaps it’s a combination of things.  I really don’t know.

I’m also not sure that it actually matters.  If I don’t care what gender my sexual partners are (or aren’t, as the case may be), why should anyone else?  They’re not the ones having the sex, after all.

* I am not mis-gendering him; he does self-identify as male.

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