Monday, September 14, 2015
I had a lot of time to think in the hospital. And I know I've alluded to this a million times. Please give me some of your understanding and maybe even your sympathy.
I'm bisexual and genderqueer. I grew up in an environment where neither were acceptable. And it has been the struggle of my life to find that elusive happy medium. It shouldn't matter. It's 2015. But still it causes me shame and doubt. I want to be straight more than anything else in the world, but it's not my fate. Even if I partner mainly with women, the feelings never go away. I'm a 2.5 or so on Mr. Kinsey's scale.
My father reads my blog regularly. I write this to him, knowing he will read this, wishing him no ill will. But I feel the need to come clean finally as I am recovering. I usually don't talk about this, but my wonderful partner is so accepting. I'm glad we can have these discussions now between us. I hid this mostly for years, but I cannot anymore. I have to say it. I've prayed about this.
This is how I was born. This is why I experimented with men. I love my family and I don't want to lose them. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit the way I am. This is so hard. I have LGBT friends who have helped me along the way. I'm fearful of my father's response. I've set aside my relationships with men aside from fantasy, but they will never go away. And when I see an attractive man my stomach turns in knots.
I have to come to grips with this. I have to be strong here. Stronger than I have ever been for anything. I've come a long way. I don't want to lose anyone here. I've lost some already, friends, mostly, so I keep it quiet. But these are different times and even then, no one seems to understand bisexuality. Let me take this burden off my chest, please. Let me be who I am, finally. Accept me for who I am, God.
I know you don't hate me. I don't believe that and never did. But I hated me. I hated myself something awful. And I still do, but I know I'm going to get there. No more coded language. It's time to step into the sunlight. I can't do this anymore.
I'm still as much a man as I ever was, as much as I ever could be. I'm glad this is 2015, like I said, and not 1970. I would be even more neurotic. But forgive me for spilling my guts. Events in childhood not my father's fault didn't make it easier, but I was always this way. I'm in pain. I want to be in pain anymore. If you are religious and inclined, pray for me. I need every one.