“Maybe I should have known when I was six and my friend and I would rub our butts together. Or maybe I should have known when I got a hand job from a guy at twelve. Or when I desperately wanted to make out with my best friend at fifteen. But, for most of my life, I didn’t have the vocabulary to describe the gay thoughts in my head. I didn’t hear the word ‘gay’ until well into my teenage years, and as a kid I didn’t know any (out) gay people. Being gay was, well, a fantasy.
“Near the end of high school, I got my first girlfriend. After several months of dating, we had reached a point in out relationship when became clear that sex was the next step. It was something we wanted, both physically and emotionally.
“Or at least, I thought I did.
“When actually confronted with the very real thought of having sex with a woman, I had to acknowledge that it wasn’t something I wanted, but was something I felt I had to do. It would make me cool. It would prove my manliness. I wanted those things, but I didn’t actually want to have sex with this, or any, girl. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be straight. In realizing that I had something to prove, I guess, that’s when I knew.“