At the time I simply dealt with this by joining in, thinking that at some point I would realise what all the fuss was about. Of course at this age no one has any real expectations of you in this area so it is easy to just brush things like this aside and let others get on with it. I never once thought about being gay, I just thought I wasn't interested. I would make sure that I occasionally done something to demonstrate that I was cool and one of the lads, such as kiss a girl or have a girlfriend for a week or too. Of course this was cold and emotionless. I didn't realise at the time but I was supposed to be trying to keep my hands off girls, not forcing myself to find opportunities to kiss one so that the other boys would think I was cool.
So there I am going about my young life, not interested in girls, saying the right things and occasionally doing the right things so that everyone would leave me a alone and I could lead the quiet life. My thoughts were consumed with School, playing on the computer and spending time with my family. My mind gave very little time to these concerns I had regarding my lack of interest in girls. Occasionally though, and no matter how hard I tried to stop it, it was starting to nag me about an interest in boys, although I didn't know it yet...
There were over 2000 kids in my secondary school and other than my small set of friends I had nothing to do with and little interest in any of them, except one. His name was Jake, he was taller than most of the other kids, slim, olive skinned and with longish black hair to his neck. I shared maths and PE with him, and for some reason unknown to me at the time I was fascinated by him. He sat just just in front of me and to the right in Maths and I would spend a great deal of time simply staring at him. I would admire his skin, his hairless arms and if he got up, his bum.
I'll never forget PE one day, we were all separated into groups of 3. Two of us had to carry the third across our shoulders 50 metres. I got paired with Jake and someone else who I don't remember. I went over to him and he offered me his right leg to pick up. As I touched it and began to lift it up I felt like never before. The feeling of him on my shoulder was amazing and I didn't want to put him down.
Despite enjoying this very much (so much so I am going giddy writing this), it was an event which caused me great emotional distress over the coming weeks and months. I'd discuss my fascination with him to myself over and over. Did this mean I was gay? Why do I keep looking at this guy? What is it about him? You must stop this right now I'd say to myself, but I never could.
As I progressed through my school and college years nothing much changed. I'd think about this as little as possible. I focused on my work, did the odd thing to throw people (and myself) off the scent, and as much as I tried not to I would look at the boys.
I don't know exactly when I accepted to myself I was gay, but it wasn't until at least the 3rd year of university some 6 or 7 years later. Considering the evidence was so overwhelming there I find it interesting that it took so long. Why it may have taken so long is something I will explore over the coming months. Also interestingly, once I did accept it I am still struggling to come to terms with its impact on my life another 6 years on. Why is that?
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