I’ve known this since 7th grade, and I can tell you precisely when I realized it.
I was sitting in math class. I looked over at Mike Finn, 2 desks away, and imagined what it would be like to make out with him.
This was back when making out was the most exciting thing imaginable. Undoubtedly fueled by the most erotic movie scene of all time – the Andy/Brand kiss in Goonies.
Not that I was a total novice in 7th grade. Far from it. Her name was Camilla. My mom and my sisters didn’t like her because she called the house too much, and she had boobs. Oh yes. We planned out our first kiss on loose-leaf paper. (“Will you kiss me? Circle Yes/No”)
It was lunchtime and everyone was in the cafeteria. I told the teacher that I had left my lunch money in my locker. She followed 5 minutes later.
I stared into my locker until she approached. We hugged for a second-this is it! – and then we kissed. I started out with my eyes closed. It was wet, and then it was over.
The next day, her friend gave me a note on the school bus. “It was fun but next time please don’t stick your tongue down my throat.”
I dumped her.
That’s a true story.
Anyway, back to Mike Finn and 7th grade math class. I don’t remember why I was imagining myself making out with Mike Finn, but I was. Maybe that was the week we learned about gay in health class.
Mike Finn was a nice kid and everyone liked him. But he was tall, thick, and sweaty, with red splotches on his skin. Maybe things would have been different if I had picked someone else for that first thought experiment. But I didn’t. I chose Mike Finn.
And I almost threw up.
I am not gay. It’s just that simple. I like women. I am sexually attracted to women. I cannot control it, it’s not something I think. It’s not a part of my software that can be reprogrammed. It’s part of my hardware.
And gay people are no different. Bisexual people are no different.
That’s why gays still can’t get married. Homophobic people think being gay means making out with Mike Finn. They will never get past that. They will never open that door of their brain that would allow them to understand that some people are wired differently.
It’s a problem of imagination.