Okay so I am a 23 year old college athlete, life is great, but my mind is going crazy. I have a girlfriend, have had one for 2 years now, it’s intense, love her to death but I have an issue I need to figure out and need some advice. Hopefully this forum is where I can come too talk about my issue and get feedback!

Ever since I can remember, say about 15 I have been looking at men in some way or another. I can remember getting home from school and going to look at porn and I would watch straight porn but for some reason watch the guy, or watch the guy more than the women. It wasn’t anything I thought of, it was just a little weird I thought. It eventually went to me watching gay porn once a month or so, I got worried, wasn’t sure what was going on! It was eating at me, but I didn’t have anyone to turn too or talk to so I just let it slide. 

I have been with plenty of women, kissing, fingering, f***, done it all, so I don’t know what is wrong. I seem to sometimes make jokes about “gay” people at times but do not mean it, and don’t take that the wrong way definitely nothing bad but laugh about the matter more so. weird huh?

I have never done anything with a guy before but am just wondering what is happening, I find “gay” articles interesting, and you can catch me watching movies about “homosexuals” and the issues, but for some reason I always clear my history on my “own” computer, so I do not know! My mind is racing like a mother-f*** and nothing can help me. I am not here to ask for a “label” but it is bothering me. What do I do? I do not want to cheat on my girlfriend to try to have sex with another man or whatever it may be, I do not want to tell her about these issues because this might blow over and then I lose her, I just am stranded, I am at a cross-road in my life and need some honest help!

I love this girl to death, but I do not want to hurt her if this is something that is going to stay with me forever, I just need help! I have no one to really turn to, I feel weird talking about this issue, and then I googled “gay forums” and this came up, especially since I am in college, I figured this would be a good place to come too and chat about my issue/feelings!

Thanks so much for reading, I hope it wasn’t ridiculous but hopefully I can get some closure or figure stuff out, thanks!

Alex -

Source: http://forums.student.com/viewtopic.php?p=6618200

Journey

From Mark P Minervini

I handed my parents the letter I had written. It was not how I wanted to tell them, but after being home a week and not being able to get up the courage to come out and say it—after they had tried to bully it out of me more than once—I decided it was the only way it was going to get done. So I gave it to my mother to read with my father, and continued to play Nintendo.

They called me downstairs. My mother looked a little distraught, but fine. My father seemed okay, too. We talked for a little while. I explained why I was in therapy. It wasn’t because I was gay, or had any problems with that. I had problems relating to people, with making friends and keeping them, and with coping with college life, with a whole new experience. (To tell the truth, I think I just needed someone to complain to.) They accepted that, and things were okay.

What I didn’t realize at the time was what that letter represented, what a turning point this was in my life, and what freedoms I had gained for myself.

On the path

I was born May 5, 1974. (I like telling people that the entire nation of Mexico celebrates my birthday.) I’m a Taurus, if you follow such things. That makes me stubborn—true, actually, but I’m also Italian.

Much of my childhood I can’t remember. There were parties, and fun, and funerals, and fights. It all sort of melts together after a while. What I do remember is mostly happy.

I remember summers up the lake with my grandmother, at her house in the most rural area of West Milford, NJ. Down at the end of a cul-de-sac the small one story house stood for years, tolerating generations of my family. The house is sold now, but the memories endure.

I remember holidays, mostly Christmas, when the extended parts of our family would gather and eat, and laugh and share. And Christmas mornings with all the wrapped boxes under the tree, waking up too early, and having to wait for every one else.

I remember, vaguely, the earliest years of Catholic school. Every year our class grew smaller, but we grew a little closer. We had packed lunches. There was first Friday mass, and a half day. And I remember some of the funniest times, like when the stray dog got into the building and Sr. Whoever yelled at it.

I remember summer vacations to places all over the east coast. Hours in the car, with almost nothing to do. We were well-behaved, though—usually. Even on the way to Walt Disney World which took two days.

I was your average child, give or take, from birth to prepubescence. I’ve been told I was a quiet child. I stuck to my mother or grandmother a lot. Pretty shy, a little scared sometimes. I never wanted to try anything new. I was a smart child though—if I remember correctly—and self-sufficient. Imaginative and playful. I loved being a child.

I also remember getting stomach aches once a month, for almost no apparent reason. When I was old enough to understand such things, I began to think of them as a monthly period, and worried about it sometimes. I never felt much like a boy, was something of a sissy. Not that I felt like a girl, but I knew I wasn’t like other boys. But I didn’t worry too much about it, at first.

Into the abyss

As I neared adolescence, things started to change. Well, they always do, of course. But the more I grew up, the more I noticed others growing up. And the more I noticed things were not the same among us.

By eighth grade, puberty had begun. My mind and body raced, pumped full of hormones I couldn’t control. I began to fantasize, to develop a sense of what stimulated me sexually. It began with vague ideas of what I thought sex was. The more I learned, the more complex my fantasies became, eventually including actual people. It was soon that I realized that it was the men I imagined that got me more excited than any of the women.

I entered high school a very frightened boy. It was a new experience, and I wasn’t good with such things. But I struggled, and within weeks had gotten quite used to it.

As time went by, and I plunged more into adolescence, I got a clearer picture of who I was. And I wasn’t sure I liked it. I was confused, and frightened by what I felt; but also couldn’t stop it. Finally the word for it entered my head, and I knew what it meant, and what people thought about it. One day, while alone in my house, I was lying on my bed. I said out loud to myself, “You’re gay.”

It was a significant point in my life. But not a positive one. I didn’t revel in the truth and accept myself. Instead I turned inward. I developed something of a split personality. There was the outside me: happy, friendly, well-adjusted. Inside I was angry and sad and confused. I tried to ignore this side, but it didn’t always work.

I plunged myself into academia. I became the quintessential student, the smartest kid in the class, who always did his homework. I socialized with my fellow classmates, laughed and joked with them. But when the bell rang at the end of the day, I went home and stayed there. There were no parties for me in high school, no hanging out or going to the mall on the weekends.

I went out on my own, usually for long walks, or to the video arcade, or a record store. Always by myself, though. I felt at the time that nobody liked me. I realize now that I was projecting, that I feared anyone knowing what I felt inside. So instead I just stayed away.

The last year of high school rolled around mercifully. I graduated valedictorian of my class and gave my speech. I was surprised to get the cheers and adulation that I did. But now it was time to move on, so I said goodbye to everyone I knew. I also said goodbye—or so I thought—to the hell of my teen years.

Battling my demons

I had decided to go away to college. I felt I had to, that my mental survival depended on it. Living at home had been stifling (again, I was projecting). I saw college as a chance to escape, and reinvent myself.

My father and I packed up the car early on a Saturday morning, and traveled the five hours to Elmira, New York. I was sort of numb on the way there. I was tired, and a little apprehensive, but mostly I was anxious. I had plans and expectations.

We arrived, and I got set up. Hours later, I sent my father on his way. Elmira had an intricate orientation planned, with all sorts of activities to get us used to college living, and being away from home.

Soon enough, though, the academic year was in full swing. By this point I had gotten quite used to getting up for an 8 o’clock class, and showering afterward before finally getting to breakfast. I had also gotten used to showering in a room where other men were showering behind plastic curtains, but not always bothering to wear a towel outside of them. I usually went straight back to my room, and never wore my glasses, for fear I might stare too long and give myself away.

I knew by now with a certainty that I was gay, or at least attracted to other men. I had decided though that I simply wouldn’t do anything about it and tried my hardest to ignore it.

My roommate and I had become friends, or friendly. I realize now, much to my own chagrin, that the relationship was not totally reciprocal, and I followed when I wasn’t wanted.

I had met other people in the meantime. One was a girl named Kelly. Kelly liked me. I found this out within the first month of school. We went to the movies one night, and I guess that qualified as our first date. We held hands, and all of a sudden I felt happy. Someone finally had shown some interest in me. I was elated, and decided to pursue this relationship.

The next day she came to my room. Cuddling turned into kissing. Actually, she was kissing. I was just following, this having been my first experience at intimacy. Within hours I was filled with confusion. Suddenly a girl liked me, and I liked her, or I thought I did. Maybe I had been wrong all those years, and my life would be normal. But then, I couldn’t deny the feelings I had for men. I walked around the campus, crying. I wrote her a letter and explained that I didn’t mean to hurt her, but for reasons I couldn’t enumerate, nothing but a good friendship would ever be between us. She explained to me, after reading it, that she felt similarly, that she already had a boyfriend and wanted to remain faithful. So, we stayed friends, and I got out of that situation. But it didn’t solve the problem underneath it.

I had been slightly attracted to my roommate this whole time—which also explained my latching onto him—but in an abstract sort of way. I knew nothing would ever happen, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to start anything. Living a lie and denying it to myself had worked too well for me up to now.

Within weeks of the second semester, I noticed that my roommate was acting strangely. He stared at me a lot, and made more than one suggestive remark. I thought he was kidding. Maybe deep down I knew he wasn’t, but I was too scared to believe it. The truth finally came out one tense night. He revealed that he was attracted to me, and that he’d had same-sex experiences before. I hadn’t. I wanted to but was scared. It would mean giving into all the instincts my body had been feeling, but also admitting a truth I was not yet ready to accept. It took me two days to make up my mind, and on a Friday night, I had my first sexual experience. It backfired Within days, I became very emotionally attached, almost neurotically so. I didn’t feel comfortable revealing my feelings to anyone else but him, and he didn’t feel the same way. The weeks that followed multiplied and intensified my feelings, until we were no longer talking, and I was tossed between love and hate, happiness and depression.

In a class journal entry around that time I wrote “My oppression doesn’t come from without, it comes from within… Every time I want to change, every time I think I’m going to become the person I’ve always hoped to become, something pulls me back…I try to end the oppression, but I can’t. I try to overcome, but it’s just so hard.” What was pulling me back was lies, and the person I wanted to become was a happy, well-adjusted man. But I didn’t know this at the time.

Reading this entry to my teacher prompted her to try and get me some help. Later that day the school nurse came to my door. We went to her office, and within minutes, through a torrent of tears, I revealed everything to her. She set me up with an off-campus therapist.

Coming out alive

I had decided to tell my parents, and as a practice, I was told to write a letter explaining to them why I was in therapy. (I probably would never have told them if they didn’t have to pay for it.) I wasn’t supposed to actually give them the letter of course, but I had always been much better at expressing myself on paper.

That following summer was a learning experience. I learned who I truly was inside, and let go of a lot of the facades I had placed on myself. I didn’t come out to everyone, but I knew that I could. I had told my parents, and as far as I was concerned I was out. After all, my parents were the only people whose opinion mattered to me. If I told any one else, and they didn’t like it, well, too bad. Their loss, really. That letter had set me free.

Through that summer, and the years that followed, I went through a change, again. Actually I look at it as a reversion. I began to rediscover my youth, my childhood, and the happiness I had felt. I made my way through the darkness and awkwardness of my teen years, emerging happy, proud, and alive.

Now I had to find a boyfriend.

Read more at http://gaylife.about.com/lr/coming_out_stories/104058/1/

I wondered how this trend would read with a gay spin, so I thought it would be great to start it off here. I’ll go first:

“When I first met him, I thought he was disgusting. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“When I first met him, I knew we were related.”

“When I first met her, I wanted to take her home.”

These are just a few of my first encounters with a few people and a pet that are important in my life. (Can you guess which one is about the dog?)

81 years old gay man comes out

James Randi comes out as gay. He discusses his life as a closeted gay man, and why he is now at age 81 coming out, and why he hasn’t been publicly open about his sexuality sooner. He describes the possible impact his coming out may have on his tireless work advancing skepticism and critical thinking. He discusses his atheism, and whether it, or his sexual orientation, influences the mission of the James Randi Educational Foundation. He talks about gay rights issues such as marriage equality.  He discusses his detractors and what they might make of the news of his homosexuality. And he explores the relevance of gay rights to the skeptical movement. 

To listen the audio interview of James Randi, click http://www.forgoodreason.org/james_randi_a_skeptic_comes_out_at_81

In a statement Mr. Gay World was quoted as saying “Porn is an integral part of the gay lifestyle – it’s just that most guys don’t have the guts to do what I did.” This is true, porn does feature significantly in the gay community and very few gay men can deny possessing or having watched pornography (well the honest ones at least). However, actually starring in one is a whole different “ball game”. Apart from the odd amateur home movies (that are not meant for mass release) I honestly don’t have any friends or acquaintances that have starred in an adult film. Whether my social circle lacks the guts to bare it all on camera is open to debate but I do suspect that this has less to do with actual guts and more to do with repercussions.

read more at http://warfare-delightful-dreary-life.blogspot.com/

This Blog

Linked From Here

This Blog

Linked From Here

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Uganda: Rights Not Repression

Gay Ugandans may be sentenced to death if legislation being debated right now passes.

High level international condemnation has just pushed the President to send the bill for review, but Ugandan allies say only a worldwide outcry could tip Parliamentarians away from discrimination, alarming them with global isolation.

There are just a few days left – please sign the petition to oppose Uganda’s anti-gay law and send it on to friends and family and it will be delivered to Uganda’s politicians, donors and embassies around the world.

To sign the petition please click HERE!

Posted by Pierre at 8:06 AM 2 comments Links to this post

Labels: Activism, Africa, Discrimination, Homophobia, Politics, Uganda

Monday, March 1, 2010

I See Dead People

When hubby and I bought our new home we got more than we had bargained for. You see apart from minor- that later turned into major renovations we also inherited a tenant that lurks around our property and enjoys playing tricks on us. Whether you believe it or not, we have a ghost! The late husband of the previous owner‘s spirit still roams around and whenever we criticize any of his former DIY projects that we now have to fix, or do anything he disapproves off he loses his temper with poltergeist like flare.
Our haunting started out like most do: We moved in! At first it started with small annoyances for which there could have been any number of scientific explanations. A light bulb exploding hardly would raise any suspicion of paranormal activity, but when it happens frequently and a pattern that has nothing to do with faulty electrical wiring emerges one starts to think twice. The same holds true for our elaborate alarms system that would go off at the most inconvenient times for no earthly reason and even after being inspected by a technician no fault with the system could be identified. And no, it’s not just electrical interference through which he likes making his presence known; he also has a sense of humor which I hardly find amusing. Our ghost likes hiding sunglasses, keys and mobile phones and he especially enjoys doing this when you are late for work. The punch line being that once you return home the item would be placed neatly back at the same spot where you were looking for it that morning.
Perhaps the strangest event was when friends of ours came over to visit with their kids. We had only been living here for two weeks and removed the majority of the knick knacks that were hidden and scattered around the garden, ranging from flower pots, broken water features and hideous molded sculptures. Our friend, her daughter and youngest son ventured into our back garden and all three saw the sculpture of a monkey – the same sculpture that we removed the week prior and were no longer there! After their visit the daughter told her mother that she didn’t like our house and the father concurred later telling us that he sensed a spirit in and around our home.
The previous owners popped by our house a week later to bring the last set of keys we were owed. Knowing that wife and daughter of our ghost were pretty open-minded I told them what was happening in the house. Not exactly knowing what reaction I was seeking I was flabbergasted by their response. They confirmed that the husband and father was still in the house and was sitting on our bed in our bedroom. After briefly hyperventilating thinking we have had sex on that bed where the ghost is sitting, I tried to composed myself and before I could prevent the words from spewing out of my mouth I said “Well then, Tell him to leave – God damn it!” They responded by saying he would leave when he was ready to go. Not at all the answer I was hoping for as I was secretly wishing they would leave him a spiritual forwarding address and accompanying taxi fare.
The old man’s favorite spot on the property was a workshop in which he used to build model trains. This spot I suspect was also his hiding place when he wanted peace and quiet and to get away from his wife and daughter. When we moved in his workshop seemed the perfect place for an outside entertainment area and it was promptly demolished and revamped to become a covered Moroccan Patio. We also noticed that this spot was the one place on the property our cats refused to go near. As work progressed trouble started, first there was a wasp infestation that took weeks to chase away, and then the one automated garage door refused to work and would open by itself whenever it felt like it. The final straw was this past weekend with our housewarming. We decided to have the party under the patio and everything was going well up until round about 11:30 pm – our ghost’s bedtime. He decided we partied enough and electricity to the patio area was cut off. Several trips to the main power board inside the house were pointless as the power kept tripping, so we finished off the party under moonlight with candles. The next morning, in denial about our haunting yet again, I tried to find the electrical problem, and again there was none and everything was working perfectly and was back to normal.
We live in a haunted house with an old man that does not like being criticized. I suspect he may also disapprove of our live style, friends, pets, taste in furniture and art. He died just over a year and a half ago and doesn’t seem like he wants to leave. Even though he is still here, it is strange but I am not scared. It’s kind of comforting knowing I am not alone on the property when no-one else is around. He may stay for as long as he wishes on condition that he doesn’t break anything else, accept the fact that the queers have moved in and due to the fact that he’s dead he forfeits any voting rights or opinions regarding future alteration to the property.

…Till next time….

Gay Ghost (pt 1)

Posted by Pierre at 4:39 PM 10 comments Links to this post

Labels: Ghosts, Home, Renovations

Monday, February 22, 2010

Porn Star or Ambassador?

The South African Charl van der Berg won the World Wide Mr. Gay in Norway last week amidst controversy of his porno past. A restaurant manager from Cape Town he now holds this coveted title and will be the ambassador of the gay community for the next year. Also known as “Chad” in the local porn industry, apart from his tiara, he also boasts crown jewels of 8 inches, uncut and is a top and likes masturbating in front of the camera for your viewing pleasure. The director of Mr. Gay World zealously defended their position for choosing van der Berg as their winner, painting van der Berg as another casualty of the exploitative porn industry. This led me to ask, can one really be a helpless victim if you knowingly expose yourself to the dodgy world of adult entertainment?

In a statement Mr. Gay World was quoted as saying “Porn is an integral part of the gay lifestyle – it’s just that most guys don’t have the guts to do what I did.” This is true, porn does feature significantly in the gay community and very few gay men can deny possessing or having watched pornography (well the honest ones at least). However, actually starring in one is a whole different “ball game”. Apart from the odd amateur home movies (that are not meant for mass release) I honestly don’t have any friends or acquaintances that have starred in an adult film. Whether my social circle lacks the guts to bare it all on camera is open to debate but I do suspect that this has less to do with actual guts and more to do with repercussions.

But in the early days of his college tenure, Jeremy Williams was burning the midnight oil with a second job. He was a Mustang power bottom. His screen name was Jay Armstrong, and you may have seen him in such hardcore porn films as Alabama Takedown, Big Muscle, and Forced Entry, a film in which he famously took a double-penetration. Ok, then.

Read more at www.southfloridagaynews.com

“Me and my husband have been married for 2 years. Before we got married he asked if i would every have a three-some cause he thinks it’ll be really sexy to see me with another man. I had told him that i don’t swing that way and he was ok with it. Lately he has been brining it up again, and i refuse to do it. I am very uncomfortable with the idea. He says that there is the void he has to fill if i don’t have sex with another man for him. He has only told me he’ll start going out drinking or going out to the titty-bar to fill this “void” but doesn’t know it that will fullfill him or not. I am afraid this is going to really come between out relationship if he goes out to fill the “void”. In fact, he might have more of a “void” if he does something to hurt me so bad cause he’ll lose me and his son. How do i handle this? How do i apprach him about this?”

-Jennie

One reply from a internet surfer

There are some men that want their wife/woman to have a menage a trois with another woman. But if your husband wants to have a threesome with another man, he’s definetely got some bi sexual/gay tendencies going on. And unfortunately that will probably never go away. Because straight men don’t fantasize about having a threesome with another man. Period! So, to get to the point, you have a problem on your hands, to say the least. You said that you are uncomfortable with the idea and you refuse to do it and he has threaten to go out and fill this “void” by drinking or going to a titty bar, which shows that his urge is strong and he is being inconsiderate of how you feel about this and how his actions will affect your marriage. You have to put your foot down and be firm with him that you will not be a part of a threesome with another man. And you must let him know that if he tries to fill that “void” in other ways, it will hurt your marriage. If he really loves you and want the marriage to work, he will let it all go in order to make his marriage work. But if he still insist on having a threesome with a man, and/or if he keeps telling you that he is going to fill the “void” elsewhere; then the writing is on the wall. Your husband is bi sexual or gay, and his urge to be with a man is inevitable. (If he hasn’t already been with men.) Unless you can live with the fact that your husband is bi sexual/gay, and eventually will act on those tendencies, with or without you, then you must seriously consider getting out of that marriage before “all hell breaks loose”. And if you stay in the marriage, then everything that happens is all on you.

Click here to leave your advice from a gay’s point of view.

Unlike when Page Six made a veiled reference to his relationship with Benjamin Maisani, this story is putting it out there in every supermarket checkout and news stand in America.

After saving one on national television, Anderson is said to be bringing home a Haitian orphan of his own and will raise it with Maisani.

You know, the whole “adopting a baby” thing is just a front, so the Enquirer has a reason to talk about his personal life.

Source: gone-hollywood.com