Repressed memories

Ah, this is an interesting one. When I was young, there was a girl whom lived next door to me. I would often go to her house and play with her and her dolls, and she would come to mine and play with me and my "action figures (luke skywalker, GI Joe, etc)". On day, she said she would be willing to do "anything to me". I freaked out and ran out of her house.

Separately, when I was in summer camp at about 13 years old, I was snuck into the girls cabin at my camp by a few girls. I thought it was fun and games. They brought me into the showers and one of the girls starting taking my clothes off and kissing me while all the other girls were watching. Again, I freaked out and escaped.

Should have known.........

 

In the weeks preceding my coming out to myself, a little under 2 years ago, I had flashbacks of some of the missed opportunities I had with women, it was almost an obsessive thought-pattern: this one, I turned my back on; that one, I walked away...I thought about the relationships I ended inexplicably, and on how few relationships with women I had in general.

There was no lack of interest on their part, what was lacking was my enthusiasm to date them...go figure. :dry:

 

I feel the same as you, greatwhale, in you saying: "There was no lack of interest on their part, what was lacking was my enthusiasm to date them...go figure." Even though I can get it up when I cuddle with a woman, I don't rush for sex with a female - as I do with a male. The hitch is that I don't see myself in a relationship with a man! It seems that I want two different things with them -- enjoying sex to the maximum with a male, while having a traditional family life with a female! Well, I know I can't have both in my homophobic society :icon_sad::icon_sad:

 

My issue is the incomplete memories from my youth.

I know, at age 11/12, my best friend and I were in my bedroom, and I was hard as a rock. Everything else about the memory is a cloud. We were always in my bedroom when he was over playing, same as when I was at his house. How did my cock get out? Was his out? What did we do next????? I just can't remember. So frustrating.

---------- Post added 17th Dec 2014 at 01:21 PM ----------

Yeah, being somewhere between bi and pansexual, in theory I'd prefer to be in polyamorous relationships with multiple partners. It sounds interesting in theory, have heard good and bad stories about such relationships.

 

Being flexible made it easier to live with being closeted, I wasn't completely cut off from being with someone I was attracted to, and I learned how to "pass" as halfway normal. I still felt the shame of having these "shameful" feelings, though.

I remember taking a speech class in college, the first day we were supposed to team up with someone, ask them a few questions, then introduce them to the rest of the class. So I made eye contact with a girl who seemed nice, and we decided to team up. Anyway, about halfway through the interview she looks me straight in the eye, and tells me she's a lesbian. My jaw dropped because I had never met anyone who was so open about it. I asked if if I should use it, and she told me she was open about it. So time comes to do our presentations -- I hate public speaking, anyway, so I was nervous -- and I get to the part about her being lesbian and I completely choked, turned bright red, and started to stutter. I dropped that class like a hot potato. I'm not sure exactly what I was afraid of, if it was "oh my god, they'll think I'm lesbian" or "oh my God, they'll know". Looking back, I kind of wonder if I tripped her gaydar.

There were other things, too ... whenever my mom took us to Supercuts as a teen, I always used a male celebrity as an example when I told them what I wanted (it was Rod Stewart for a while), and I usually wore "boys'" brand names. I had a boys' jacket that I hardly ever took off, no matter how hot it was. I also always wanted to look like male actors and pop stars that I admired -- I admired Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, and thought they were pretty cool, but I never tried to look like them, I wouldn't even have bothered to try, because it wasn't me.

I actually put on a man's jacket and pants one day, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, drew on a moustache, and went to a restaurant with my family dressed that way. Amazingly, they didn't mention it, although my mother acted kind of weird. It wasn't even Halloween.

 

Thought of another one. When I was four or five years old, I remember I had a hat that got dirty. I climbed on a chair and hid it on the top shelf of my closet behind some boxes so my mother would not see it and save me from getting into big trouble. Somehow my mother did find it, and I got in big trouble - painful trouble at that - for hiding the hat and lying to her about it. Not sure why, but I hid myself in the closet at the same time as when I hid that hat!