Ten years of this...

Not even my therapist(s) know what to make of this, the only thing they tell me is that I seem to be "sexually punishing myself." The only physically intimate encounters I've had were with a woman, twice, and neither time was I able to climax-- imagine that, a guy who's never experienced physical intimacy before not being able to climax on his first time.

Actually, I kind of feel ripped off, because it wasn't even a year ago. But in my own 'research' I've noticed that my reproductive organs become more... excited when I watch homosexual (male on male) pornography, of if I'm talking flirtatiously with another like-minded male, where as with straight pornography, or virtually anything with women in it, I'm never completely aroused, nor was I when I was physically intimate with the woman.

Yet, whenever I go to pub on "Bear's Night" (heavyset, hairy homosexual men-- my demographic and preference for a potential partner) my reproductive organs are on fire, but because I feel like I'd be defiling myself, or shaming my family or just doing something wrong out of sheer Catholic guilt (I was raised Catholic by a Jewish convert mother-- that's a lot of guilt right there) so I bail and go home and 'release' that 'reproductive energy' and wait until the feeling goes away, only for it to return within at least ten minutes.

I've been doing this for ten years. It's the longest game of fight and flight. I thought being physically intimate with a woman would make the confusion go away, but it did the opposite, making it about ten thousand times worse. Now I'm just sort of lost, wandering around, trying not to think about about how much the idea of engaging in receptive homosexual physical intimacy arouses me for fear of shaming myself, family or whatever.

 

Yeah, I know I'm a 'Kinsey 6' as some might put it, but I'm just not willing to accept that, yet. What's crazy is every guy I come in contact with finds me really attractive (and I love the attention) for some reason and we're always flirting for four hours before I bolt, go home, release my 'tension' and try not to think about it.

It was in the summer of last year (2013) that I had my first physically intimate experience ever. I was 25, I hooked up with a girl a year younger than me and I... did not have a good time. Like I already said, I couldn't climax, I didn't even come close to climaxing, actually. I felt like everything I'd learned from my parents about intercourse was a lie-- my father always told me that the first time a guy has intercourse he climaxes in about three seconds. I was intimate with this girl for two hours and my reproductive organs weren't even fully excited. Some of my friends called it 'performance anxiety,' others said it was because I had just walked three miles in the heat. Maybe it was because I wasn't really attracted to her-- all I know is that the only time my genitals reach full stimulation is upon interacting with other potential male partners or viewing homosexual pornography.

But again, there's the whole Catholic guilt from a Jewish mother thing going on, and I don't even want to get into that. She's always in the back of my head, waving a finger at me if I'm imagining engaging in receptive homosexual intercourse she'll point down and in my head I'll hear a nagging voice say "That's not what that's for! That's for excreting your waste!" Or something like that. But I'm not sure what I should do to absolve her mental influence.

 

I'm honestly not into women at all-- I mean, I see you're a woman and no offense to you or anyone else here, but I'm completely repulsed by the female reproductive anatomy. And I rarely pursue relationships, I'm more of a "let's see where the night takes me" kind of guy, so I suppose bringing a guy home for once would do me good. I just need to buck up and do it.

But yeah, I love my Mom, she's probably my best friend, yet now and then I'll get a call from her asking me: "Why haven't you found yourself a nice girl yet?" And I'll just sort of have to redirect the conversation to something else, like how we both hate my younger brother's ex-wife or how annoying and strange my Dad's mother is. But she drops the whole "Are you gay" question now and then and I always deny it-- frankly I'm very old school about the whole thing and I don't think people who don't need to know or wouldn't want to know are better off not knowing if I'm not comfortable with it.

 

Hey, thanks for the responses!

I should have made it a little clearer that neither me or my Mother are religious-- she's a lapsed Jew who converted to Catholicism early in life and later lapsed out of Catholicism as well and was eventually excommunicated from the Church after her divorce from my father-- a Baptist (who is one of the few people who knows of my orientation and, despite his strong religious background is actually very supportive of it). I attend a Buddhist Zendo for meditation and they're very welcoming of people of all walks of life, there. As for my mother, she doesn't believe in anything bigger than herself now that her mother has passed away, except maybe the mall (which I have a hard time arguing with, as we both love shopping :eusa_danc).

So what I'm getting at, this isn't a religious based shame, but rather just one instilled in me by the feelings of guilt and shame I was naturally raised with by her, I think. She was never overtly religious, she just enjoyed being domineering and extremely overbearing and overprotective when I was growing up and I guess that rubbed off deep in my subconscious.. which is why I have such a hard time with myself.

 

Well, the one therapist I had is gay and a specialist in sexuality, but because I no longer have health insurance I can't afford to pay out of pocket for sessions with him with my current paycheck, which is a shame, because he was my favorite therapist-- which is saying something for me, because I don't like most psychoanalysts.

 

Yeah, you're right. That's why I engaged in intimate physical intercourse with a woman last summer, I figured since all my friends always said the same thing "Bro, you need to get laid," or "Bro, it's the most amazing thing ever" and I found physical relations with a woman to be lackluster, at best leaving me with a ten mile walk of shame home. In retrospect, I could have taken the bus, I could have called a cab, but I was so perplexed by my own mixed feelings after that I couldn't do much critical thinking. I just walked through the city until I got home.

 

Thanks, yeah it is. Still that must've been the longest walk of my life.

As for getting a guy friend-- that's no problem, considering about ten of them are all over me.

 

That's the easy part, that will only take five minutes, tops. I just need to figure out how to mentally prepare myself.

 

Well, I think I know what you mean-- from the beginning I used gay dating sites, and now, later in my more 'experienced' years, apps for smartphones (which weren't around just a few years ago) and it sounds dumb, but I love posing for a camera in a sexy position-- it always makes me feel good about myself for some odd reason. Or when I'm at the bar, dancing in a somewhat provocative outfit-- I feel at home. I don't know, it doesn't make a lot of sense, I guess. That's just the way it is for me.