My previous post explored the frustration I have with trying to explore my sexuality. This post will expand on it and may – depending on how inebriated I am – contain graphic content. Viewer discretion advised.
The concept of “hitting on” girls (or guys) always made me feel awkward. It seemed so demeaning. A lot of focus growing up was placed on treating girls with respect. Respect. Respect. Respect. Of course, for those who never had a chance to really explore what it meant to disrespect girls, the examples given on how to respect women (holding a door, giving gifts, remembering an anniversary) were little more than rituals to avoid social retribution for behaving badly toward women. We rarely – if ever – learned attitudes. And I think it shows; if it does not early – it does later on in marriages.
My attitude toward sex before adolescence was sort of the naive and arrogant attitude of “what the heck is people’s problem? When I get older, I’ll never be tempted by that stuff.” So my surprise and confusion in adolescence was compounded. I had sworn to myself I would never be tempted, and now I found myself turned on by the slightest show of cleavage. My erections were not solely pleasurable, but also terrifying.
I remember the first time I ever felt a sick feeling about sex. I was with my grandma on a trip and saw a sign for a strip club. I remember just feeling so sick. I wanted so bad to see that woman on the sign naked. So bad. But then I felt so repulsed by even the idea of sexuality. Somehow I felt threatened by this new desire… it upset my perfect little world.
This feeling hung on for the longest time. I was mad that sex existed. I was mad that the desires were there and so strong. I think even a small part of me was mad at God. Why the heck did I have to wait another ten years to make use of what were such strong feelings? I knew nothing of masterbation and was too scared to try anything.
My outlet was my mind. I fantasized like the hormonal boy I was. I think I had fucked every girl I knew in my mind by the time I was probably fourteen (?). In fact I remember distinctly the moment when – lying in bed – I had fantasized about a girl I knew at church and found myself struck with the thought that there was no one else I knew I could fantasize about. Suddenly I was struck with guilt. Deep, horrendous guilt. I felt like God had allowed me to fantasize about all these women just for this one moment to get my attention. I repented in tears.
For the next several years I was basically pure in mind. In fact, I remember having virtually no sexual thoughts for roughly two years in high school. I just avoided it. I had suppressed the desire so much that I would “bounce” my thoughts away from anything sexual like a virtuoso.
But this did not help my love life. I fell in love with a girl at church when I was about fifteen. Deeply, madly in love. But madly repressed and confused. By the influence of my friend Anthony and my mom I had become deeply enamored with Joshua Harris and I Kissed Dating Goodbye – to the point I would argue with others about how he was right. Dating was wrong: period. Sexual thoughts outside marriage were wrong: period. In my black and white mind no sexual thoughts were allowed. I still feel deeply wounded by this book and the horrid attitudes it taught me.
To some extent I turned into a stalker of Lydia – the girl I thought I was in love with.I had become convinced in my mind that she was the one for me, pushing away all doubts. And there were doubts, but I think I was trying to deal with my suppressed sexuality and this was the primary outlet. Lydia liked me as a friend but I think I creeped her out after I expressed interest. This is probably normal at the age of fifteen, but for me it was so frustrating because at a certain point I had convinced myself that God meant for us to be together – or something like that. This was a recipe for emotional disaster.
[I just went out for a smoke and a few thoughts occurred to me. First is how hard it is for me to even write about stuff like this. It's like a massive weight on my shoulders. I've always been an extremely sexual and sensual guy. I discovered rather quickly last year that I know how to touch a girl naturally - and was even told so by one girl I was with [I did not have to work that hard at getting a girl to orgasm and never faced the "oh, crap how do I get this bra off with one hand" thing] To some extent I think somehow I knew I was naturally strongly sexual from an early age – and knew I could pull off being a player – and my suppression was so strong that any expression of my sexuality was nipped in the bud by my overzealous Christian mind. Now, when I face my natural urges, I find myself feeling like I’ve got one foot on the gas and one foot on the brake at all times. Writing about it is something I know I need to do to get it out but it is still hard.]
For the next four to five years I was in love with this girl. Looking back, I wonder why. I think it was probably because I had suppressed my sexual urges so strongly that they all came flooding out in emotional displays. My MO was not to think about sex but just to think about love. Which definitely would come across creepy and stalkerish now that I think about it. Or gay. One of the two.
Obviously I never got what I needed sexually all through high school. I could not satisfy myself and I needed it. It was so bad I would regularly have two wet dreams a night, leading to frustration and confusion especially around the breakfast table when I would drag myself out of bed – full of guilt and confusion – with wet underwear and quite pissed. My mom was confused herself that I went through underwear so often. Yet I felt I could not talk openly about any of this with my parents so I bottled most of it inside, trying to resolve the conflict through spiritual means.
What a mess I was. And still am. Having never honestly faced myself and my sexuality I don’t know what I want, and I have never listened to my normal and natural desires as I should have. It is all quite confusing. I still find myself regularly reaching these very annoyed states and then decide to masturbate and find that everything that was bothering me suddenly goes away.
The suppression is still alive and strong. I’m trying to explore it.
More of my story later! I’m sure this will be a long series….
- Josh
