Uniqueness

When I was a tyke, maybe 5 or 6, I knew I was different from other people, at least other boys my age. I didn’t know what the difference was but knew it in my bones.  As I aged, things became a bit more specific, but I was not of the age to understand what those things meant.

Being the youngest of three siblings, I also knew my brother and sister knew things better than I. I aged carefully because of this and grew to understand things slowly.

Eventually, I became aware that I was interested more in boys than girls, especially physically. Years later I understood this as sexual attraction, but then I didn’t have the foggiest idea what that was or meant. I knew that I wanted to know what was under Tarzun’s brief apparel, not Jane’s. My friends, however, wanted to see Tarzan swinging on vines and actively controlling the film’s story; and they wanted to see Jane, a lot of her. I didn’t. I was only interested in Tarzan.

That is not a definitive thing at a very young age. But I instinctively knew that meant something. I did not talk about this with anyone sensing it was a taboo topic. And I was right in that. Boy was I right in that!

In time, gradually I became aware of my difference. I behaved differently as well, to protect myself. By high school, I had researched homosexuality secretly and wondered if I was one. By college I knew I was one but had not explored the attraction in any way. In fact, I didn’t explore it until I graduated from college. With tiny experience I knew what I was but didn’t want to be such. By that time gay was the term for men attracted to other men. That would have been around 1965 or 1967.

I yearned to be normal, get married, have kids, a house and a career successful enough to support family and college educations for the kids. I pursued that path diligently and succeeded at it. By my 30’s, however, sexuality emerged as a focus. With great care I explored it and knew this was something I could not long avoid. But I did avoid it, until years later. By then the kids were in college.

This process, however, played poorly in my marriage and Ann wondered if we should divorce. We decided yes and carefully arranged for that to happen. It was painful and horrible, but necessary for her and for me. She wanted the kids to go with me so she could have a fresh start. By the time we sold the house and moved, my daughter was a fresh college graduate. She remained with me a few months living in the new home while she found a job and an apartment in the city. John was in university and a sophomore. He remained with me for several years, completing undergraduate study, working for one year while awaiting the start of his master's program. Then he earned his master's 27 months later, stayed with until he had a career start and moved into the city.

I explored my sexuality after a few years and met Rocky when I was divorced 7 years. He moved in shortly thereafter. Meanwhile, Ann had married in the first year after our divorce.

Rocky and I were together 23 years. He died 19 months ago from two cancers, diabetes and Parkinson’s. It has been a long and lonely road since his death as I navigate my own path now in my 80’s.

My gay story has more details but has been mostly undramatic. Difficult, yes; transformative, yes. It has also been worthwhile being honest about who and what I am, although sex and gender do not fully define the whole person. It just doesn’t.

If anyone thinks this was easy or selfish, they have much more thinking and research to do. Living up to one’s full potential is more complicated and difficult to do. I know this from very personal experience. The struggle was real and unwelcome. But it was a necessary thing to deal with. Just like so much more in life.

February 26, 2025

  

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