In my imagination, though, my thoughts were much more perverse than the heavy petting. Zach was tying me up on the hood of the car where he did ambiguous, blurry things between my legs. Roy had me in the back of the station wagon tied up spreadeagle where he bit my nipples so hard, I bled. Ken took me to his house while his parents were at a party and there on his parents' bed he roughly took away my virginity. Mike gave me a ride to school on a cold snowy day and in return demanded I give him a blow job. Scott took me into a deserted choir practice room and took off his belt, threw me over his lap, pulled down my jeans and whipped me. Dan took me for a snowmobile ride and purposely took me into a far away barn where I was tied and suspended over a cross beam....
All in my head, of course. None of this ever transpired. Although in my future, I had much more interesting things done to me. If only I would have known. And you will read about some of those adventures in future posts.
Back to high school.
After the movie, we would go to the local ice cream parlor. And one fateful time is where it happened.
"HAH, I think that character was into BDSM, did you see how he acted?" someone said.
"BDSM?" I asked. "What's that?"
"Bondage, discipline, sadomasochism," someone answered.
(Back then, the Dominance/submission portion of that acronym had not yet come into place yet, I suppose.)
Wow.
Wow.
Oh my gosh.
So THAT is what I have been thinking about all my life. That is what I had been doing in the lonely recesses of my bedroom, isolated from everyone else, engaging in surely depraved activities that no amount of Hail Marys or Our Fathers would get me out of purgatory! That is what I had been doing with that hairbrush! (That will be my next blog entry. The hairbrush. Ahh, the hairbrush. Some girls have teddy bears and Barbie dolls...I had the hairbrush.)
There was a name to this! It had an identity! I was thrilled!!!
Until the next words came out of someone's mouth.
"Crazy freaks. What sick bastards. Weirdos. FREAKS!"
And as elated I was in one moment, I was devastated a split second later.
I was a crazy freak. A sick bastard. A weirdo. A freak.
And I knew right then and there I could never, ever, tell anyone about the real me. Ever.
And I didn't. Until many, many years later.
I fully identify with the teenager who is gay or lesbian who cannot tell his friends, parents, teacher, clergyman. I totally understand the married man who is a crossdresser who has to hide his silky underwear. Because I harbored a secret just as shameful, just as taboo, just as forbidden. For many years.
I am so grateful I no longer have to hide who I am. And I hope all who are held captive by such double lives can someday find freedom.
I think that day is approaching.
But we are a long, long way off before all alternative lifestyles and orientations are accepted without stigma.
In the meantime, think of me what you will. I don't care anymore. This is who I am, and who I always will be. Accept me as I am, or go away. It's that simple.
To those in the closet with whatever label is on the door: Don't give up. Don't be discouraged. Don't hate yourself! It's not your fault, you did not choose this. It is the way you have been wired, perhaps since birth. Perhaps even before birth.
You can make it. Hang in there. You will survive. As I say now, "We are not different. We are ENHANCED!"
www.southern-charms2.com/sammie
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