Hello Project, now it is so much that I don’t write to you. With my wife we talked and we decided to separate. Now we are still at home together for logistical reasons and it is not easy, but I imagine that slowly everything can improve. The guy of the message I have not heard him for months and I cannot deny that I miss him, but slowly this will pass too. On my orientation I sincerely stopped asking questions and giving me labels. I decided to live with sincerity and that’s it, without giving me a thousand problems. I also managed to talk with my male best friend and with my female best friend, with my sisters and especially with my parents. I was afraid that they wouldn’t understand, in fact I was convinced of it, but it happened the exact opposite, they understood me and they are close to me. This helped me a lot. My father’s answer was “Certainly I’m old, but in 2017 it’s no longer strange”. I and my sister were more shocked by his reaction than he was by me. He has always been one of closed mind (at least apparently). Now I’m just trying to find a balance in my life even if I have swung for months between moments of contentment and serenity and moments of confusion and sadness. I also write to you because I wanted to add my experience to the forum by telling my life, but before inserting the post I wanted you to read it and tell me your opinion. Below you find the text (I know it’s very long, but it’s a life to tell and there are many themes). Bye! And thanks.
Hello everyone, first of all I congratulate you for the forum, which I have been following for many months and that I continue to follow, reading texts, reflections and comments, and I thank Project for its advices. All those testimonies have helped me in this period not exactly easy. I have tried many times to write my story to give some help to someone else with my experience and above all to receive help or advice, but I have always been afraid and uncertain about what to write.
I’m a 29 year old guy, not exactly a teenager. I state that I understand that I have always had a strong internalized homophobia, probably acquired by a loving and affectionate grandmother who was completely against the gay world and by a father who joked about it with friends. I was a child and certain phrases that, with today’s head, I would understand that they must be contextualized and understood in a completely different way, they had marked me. I don’t know if it was because of these phrases or whatever else, but I have always seen the fact of being homosexual as something perverse and sick, I don’t say as pedophilia but almost.
I remember that as a young child I had “different” thoughts but I had confirmation of being different at 14 when I fell in love for the first time with a guy. Obviously it was an unrequited and unilateral love, because he was straight. All this made me suffer, not only because of the unrequited love, but because it was something I absolutely didn’t want and I tried to deny inside myself, hiding and lying to myself telling myself that he was just a friend. My dream since childhood was to have a family and children. The children were my biggest dream. As far as I was concerned, in addition to emotional involvement, I was also attracted toward this guy, sometimes it was enough to stay close to him to get an erection, but I couldn’t avoid to want him and it was impossible for me to take him out of my head, and all the story made me ashamed to death.
At that time I don’t sincerely remember masturbation in which direction it went, even if remembering it would be useful to understand things better. I also remember that at that time when I was interested in a guy I tried to “translate” the feelings I was feeling, directing them to girls, trying to convince myself that I felt those feelings for girls. I don’t know why I did it, but I was convinced that it was right. It was a period when I felt wrong and suffered.
I remember trying to change my gestures to look as masculine as possible, even if I still maintain a slightly effeminate attitude. I didn’t do sports or anything that led me to enter a male locker room because I was very ashamed to see naked guys, I found myself looking at them and wanting them. I tried to do everything to look as normal as possible and the fact that I had a good appearance helped me because I was always surrounded by beautiful girls, many of which followed me, while for me they were only friends. Still, I find myself better with girls and I have more male than female friends, with guys I have more difficulty in tying. I also tried approaches for a while with some girls, but without having any emotional or physical interest.
At one point she came, the girl who later became my wife. She had a great love for me and I found in her the emotional tranquility that comforted me and made me feel normal. For me she became a point of reference and I was completely carried away by her love. I somehow love her and I still care for her today, but knowing that there was something wrong with me, I was able to see it as something external, not mine, to such an extent that I had finally come to think of being “healed”, or better, not even “healed”, that there had simply never been anything strange within me. Sex worked (maybe), even though I never looked for it and it had never impressed me. Sometimes I fell into periods of sadness and silence because something came out and I closed in myself knowing that with a little time the malaise would have passed and everything would be back as before. And my poor wife was always trying to understand something that is quite incomprehensible even for me and even now.
Masturbation had become a necessity, I devoted myself to it in a mechanical way and always watching porn, straight porn, of course, watching a gay one was something unthinkable for me. Sometimes I looked at them to convince me and confirm that I was not interested. But in the hetero movies I looked at the man and in my mind I had the greatest pleasure in oral sex, with the desire, not only that it was done on me, but that I was to do it to him, and then I used to identify myself in the actress. I know, it’s absurd if I think about it, but in that way I felt normal and above all not guilty. Probably I’m the only one in the world to have certain quirks. My life has gone on like this, I have filled my life with things to do without stopping, I guess just only in order to avoid having time to stop and think.
I really believed it was all normal like that. After all I was not serene but somehow I was happy, I had a perfect life. With my wife we grew up together, we respected each other and we always did everything together, traveled, learned languages and supported each other in difficult times. So I decided to get married and give her that much-desired wedding. I tried to give her a dream wedding, I had committed to this purpose with all my heart. Although it was a mistake it was a day when we were really happy, it has been still the best day of my life and when I made the decision, for me, that problem that I had inside didn’t exist anymore.
Until “he” arrived. I was in church, that same church that so often comforted me in the most difficult moments. He was in front of me. I couldn’t look at him and the absurd thing is that every now and then I caught him while looking at me and seeing that I was looking at him, he looked away, almost ashamed. I told myself it was strange. He was not handsome, but his dark eyes, his naive look of teddy bear (so I called him), big and tender, attracted me. Then someone told him he had to move and put himself next to me. We had a chat and he was also nice and intelligent. There were so many things in common to talk about. After the course, I ran away, I left without too many words.
I didn’t see him for a while until one day I saw him in a group. We had to take a group photo and he took my hand to make me get close to him, a gesture that any friend would do, but that contact pleased me terribly, after the end of the photo service I quickly left, full of shame.
The following days I was continuously thinking of that guy. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I cried, I don’t know exactly why. Then one day I had to ask him for some information and he gave me his phone number. He looked at me in a strange way, mixed with contentment and shame. I felt that he could also feel my own feelings, but I avoided thinking about it. But I didn’t understand exactly and I repeated to myself that it was all in my mind. I called him for that information, but the chat lasted two hours. It was really nice to talk to him and I saw that it was like that for him too.
In the following days we got newly in contact and we manage to talk for hours with pleasure, without stopping. We began to be in contact more often also with messages. I realized that I was more and more of me interested in him, but as usual inside me I told myself that I had found a good friend only. Until one day I went to his house to meet him. I had to stay there no more than half an hour, but he had to go for an errand and insisted that I wait for him at all costs, and so I waited for him. Then we talked again about our studies, our travels and our passions. He seemed happy to see me and be with me. I certainly was.
The next day I had to go abroad for work and I needed a helping hand, we had talked in the morning and I had also told him about my trip and he came abroad with me to give me a hand. During the whole trip we talked and the speeches about gays and in particular about gays who attend the church came out. I suspected he was gay and I asked him it without too many preambles, stressing that it was just out of curiosity.
He asks me in turn the same question and I answer him “straight” but I talk to him about my doubts and tell him that maybe I can call myself bisexual (it was the first time in my life that I was talking to someone about such things, and it was something that I didn’t even want to talk about with myself). He replies that he too was bisexual. So we began to talk about our doubts and feelings experienced in the past. It was the first time that I really asked myself questions and talked about them aloud.
From him I learn that he had begun to accept himself two years earlier, at the age of 30. I also tell him of the feelings I felt towards him (I had no ulterior motive, it was only out of sincerity). He tells me that for him it was the same, I was happy but confused, I didn’t expect it. Then with a tender and shameful look he puts his hand on mine. He had a sweet firm touch, I felt uncomfortable, but I loved that contact terribly. I felt afraid and guilty. Then he made a simple gesture but I remember it with great pleasure. It was hot and he was worried about me, he took off my hat, and so I could see he was worried about me. This thing filled my heart. We spent the day together, looking at the view of the city and then we stopped for a drink and he clumsily tried to kiss me.
I was shocked. I pushed him away saying I was married. I read in his look that he was ashamed. He apologized. All this made me so tender, I too wanted the kiss, but I couldn’t let me go. I was afraid of myself, of the situation, and the sense of guilt grew inside me just thinking about it. I shook his hand, saying to forgive me, but I wanted nothing more than a friend. The following days we continued to stay in touch, more and more and we took every opportunity to see each other. We did nothing but talk. It was so pleasant. But I felt that feeling grew stronger and stronger inside me. Then one day he writes me by message, a simple “I love you”, and I think I was the happiest person in the world. I was ashamed to answer him and sent him a song. From there followed messages and songs, which until that day didn’t make sense, then suddenly took deep meanings that I could finally understand.
We talked about everything, our secrets and the deepest fears. We opened up with each other a lot, until one day he wrote to me “I love you, but maybe even a little more”. I would have cried from the myriad feelings and thoughts that passed through my heart and mind. I was really confused, but now I realized that I loved him and for the first time in my life I was reciprocated. I was not alone. And the only thing I thought was: how is it possible that such a strong and beautiful feeling is wrong? Then he had to leave for a trip and we met to say goodbye. I was married and I had no intention of doing anything wrong anyway. So we talked and hugged before saying goodbye. I was so happy in his arms. Then he looked me in the eyes, those eyes that I dreamed of so much, and I found myself with my face closer to his, I felt terribly ashamed. I literally ran away greeting him.
During his two-week trip we were in touch every day, every moment we could. We were also joking about sex, but always for fun. Then he returned from vacation; that night, by coincidence, I had to go out and we met on a Roman bridge. He told me about the trip and all the good things he had seen. It was cold and so, he, big and tender, hugged me to warm me up. It was so sweet and I was so happy, I felt protected for the first time in my life, I wanted that embrace never to end. I looked at him and asked him sadly why God says that such a beautiful thing it’s wrong. I’ve always seen gay love as something vulgar and carnal. Instead it had everything but vulgarity. And that’s how I found myself kissing him. But it wasn’t a kiss like all those I had given until that day. I felt my heart beating wildly, a desire that pervaded my whole body. It had never happened to me in my life.
We stayed hugged a little more on that bridge in the dark, watching the moon and the stars, over the incessant noise of the river. It was cold but for the first time in my life I felt really warm. I went home and thought about him all night and the following day.
Oh, what I had done! I had cheated on my wife and with a man. But it had been beautiful. I talked to him and he had the same guilt feelings, he was not married, but it was as if he were. Stupidly we were convinced that perhaps God had given us the opportunity to love each other without ruining our hetero duties (what a stupidity, if I think back!). But at that moment it was enough for me to get rid of guilt and to be with him. We continued as friends in front of others and any excuse was good to steal a kiss or a hug or even just a caress, until one day we found ourselves making love. It was not as vulgar as in porn movies, it was love, it was a mutual pleasure. I cannot get out of my mind his way of looking at me. I miss that tender teddy bear look. Then, afterwards, we fell asleep in each others arms. That hug is the most beautiful memory I carry with me.
After that episode we joined even more, I worried about him and he worried about me, we were very considerate of everything. We dreamed of impossible journeys and a life together, one in the shadow of the other. We imagined our old age in front of a fireplace, hand in hand. All this until one day an event happened (of which I prefer not to speak) that led him to feel guilty. I was married, and he too was as if he were. So the sense of guilt began to grow in us. We understood that everything we were doing was wrong. So he began to cry and I felt guilty about everything, about my wife and about him. I was a rag. I wanted to detach myself but I couldn’t. All this without being able to talk to anyone and trying to appear cheerful and sunny as usual in the eyes of people.
But I saw that he was moving further away from me. I told myself it was right this way, but the more I saw him get away, the more I died inside and looked for him. Until one day I felt him far away and asked him if it was over, he said yes, that it was better that way. I think the world around me stopped making noise at that moment. I told him “it’s ok”, after all it was right that way. For a week I couldn’t stop crying. I was newly alone and aware that something inside me was different, was gay.
So in that week I asked him if we could meet again. I wanted at least him to say it to me in my face not on the phone. We met. He was calm now. I didn’t understand how it was possible. So, when I got back to work, I wrote to him if he had another guy. He told me that he didn’t know how to tell me it and that he was sorry, but he had met a guy two weeks before and that with me he had confused the initial interest with love. At that moment it was like receiving a punch in the stomach, the world collapsed under my feet. I felt destroyed, I found myself losing the most beautiful thing in my life for another guy, I found myself aware that that a part of me so repressed existed and that made me really happy, and I also felt guilt for what I had done to my wife. All this in a fake straight life that made me feel in prison.
At that time I began to wonder if I could really be gay or bisexual. This thought stressed me more and more. I began to lose weight and close myself up like a hedgehog. Seeing any person made me uncomfortable. I was ashamed of myself. Sometimes I got to the point of feeling repulsion for myself. Finally I accept that part of me exists and I talk about it with my wife. That’s where I met the forum and talked to Project.
My wife helped me to understand, she thought it was a period of depression, but when she realized that this part of me exists, she went through a period of rage. But then she realized that it was simply so. On the one hand she was sad and disappointed, but on the other she was relieved because she had given herself so many faults and she thought that there was something wrong with her but now she understood that the problem was not her but was I, and she kept telling me: if you’re gay now everything is clear to me.
At first I thought being gay was only a small part of personality, but over time I saw my awareness grow up and, asking myself questions and reasoning on it, now I understand many things that I didn’t understand before. Now I’m aware that bisexual I’m for sure, and maybe gay. My wife says it’s clear, I’ve never looked at any girl, I’ve never looked for her to make love. I prefer a book or something else to her, she repeats that if I’m bisexual it’s just because she’s there. But there she was and I never had problems in making love. So a part of me is straight. At least I hope, I don’t want to believe that I really hid behind my wife. However now I stopped wanting to give myself a label. Now I just want to rediscover my serenity and really live, since until now I let myself be carried away by what was right for society. I know that from that day I rediscovered masturbation mostly without watching porn movies and all centered on that much desired guy and I also started to watch gay porn movies that give me satisfaction after all, even if I prefer the parts with oral sex or those “romantic”, Some films, however, don’t like them because they are too “hard”.
Now four months have passed since we said goodbye with that guy and yet I still miss him so much. For what concerns my wife I realized that she deserves a person who really loves her and really wants her. I tried to talk to her sincerely and stay close to her for what I can. It’s hard to leave her because I love her deeply and she has been a fixed point in my life. And the sense of guilt does not help. But it’s the right thing. On the advice of my psychologist I have been able to talk about myself with my two best friends and with my family. After that I spoke with my parents I felt an incredible sense of liberation, especially because they didn’t take it badly although I had thought exactly the opposite. On the contrary they speak as if they had always known or suspected it. They support me, worried perhaps also of my weight loss and of my sadness and loneliness that I have been carrying with me for months. Sorry if I was verbose, but summarize a life in a few lines is almost impossible.
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-story-of-a-married-gay-guy