There’s a lot going on here, but basically, I spent a decade unable to relax around women. Why? Well, all because I’m gay. You should really have got that from the title.
I started university in 2012, which funnily enough was the same time I began taking a keen interest in hardcore gay porn. I was, like most 18-year-olds, self-conscious and desperate to fit in. So, it’s safe to say that I could really have done without this new Pornhub niche.
Based entirely on the fear of rejection, I decided that nobody could ever know. What's the best way to hide your sexuality? That’s easy; hang around exclusively with men, create a new laddy persona and pull ‘birds’ on nights out. I’d essentially created my own witness protection programme.
Subconsciously, and to my detriment, I started to see women not as friends but as an alibi for straightness. In my mind, having female friends was a Hansel and Gretel style crumb leading to my homosexuality. Now, clearly this thinking is complete nonsense, but don’t cancel me… I was scared.
Often, the only time I would speak to a woman was in a desperate attempt to sleep with them. I cannot stress enough just how anxiety inducing it is to chat someone up who you’ve no desire to sleep with, not to mention how excruciating it must have been for them. What could possibly go wrong? Well, think spaghetti post hob.
Fast forward to 2021 and although I was now out and happy in my own skin, I still carried with me this new, unhealthy relationship with women. The sweaty palms, blushed cheeks, and general bumbling.
I’d focused so hard on solving one problem that I sleepwalked into another. It was the most prominent scar of my coming out, that is, if you ignore the Sally Field levels of craving validation.
I’d focused so hard on solving one problem that I sleepwalked into another. It was the most prominent scar of my coming out, that is, if you ignore the Sally Field levels of craving validation.
As you can imagine, living most of your twenties fearing half the world’s population is problematic. Which is why when lockdown vol. 2 hit, I plumped for therapy. Well, sort of… It was with a life coach rather than a therapist. They’re essentially the same thing, just that you bare your soul to someone with fewer letters after their name.
It was through talking with my life coach that I understood how the issue was rooted in my flawed coping mechanism of coming out. All of a sudden, my bogeywoman had gone, and I've not had issues talking with women since. Realising that your insecurities are your own creation really lightens the load, as well as making you think ‘God this could have been sorted out far sooner’.
Unfortunately, I still can’t talk to attractive men, but that’s a different issue all together.
