Do some gay men wish they never were gay and regret being gay?
I am lucky in many ways, or I have been able to take advantage of different things. One, I’ve never quite subscribed to the moniker or simplistically “gay”.
Ever since I was a teen, I’ve always thought I was omnisexual—-as it encompasses men, women, spirituality, physicality, I’ve even have time with a trans person. But I’ve also never been of the mindset to be “accepted” or tolerated. Maybe because I’m an only child, I’m of a more independent mentality.
Coming Out
When I came out to my family, at about 17—-after the worst suicide attempt ever—-I panicked when I felt the effect of the pills and raced myself to the hospital. Turns out I had not taken enough so I dozed off in the waiting room, afraid to say what I’d done, and woke up a couple of hours later. lol As I’d never done drugs or drunk alcohol I had no frame of reference for taking pills.
When I got released from the hospital, after being taken back by my aunt, whose house I’d made my way to, my family gently explained, having read my diary and come to understand that though yes, I might think I was in a relationship with my bestie and in love, it was not allowed. So knock it off.
I went in my room and started packing. I was completely comfortable at 17, working part time to go get an apartment on my own. Shocked, my family capitulated and I excitedly put up a Chippendales calendar in my bedroom.
In The Game
I spent a couple of years working to help pay the mortgage and going out to fun parties in Manhattan, again no drugs or drinking, but wonderful make-out sessions and hook ups and dancing. Then I chose to go to a college upstate instead of by the new home my mother was buying in another state, so she took away my college trust fund. And, I went upstate anyway.
I was completely out at university as I had been in the city, first few months volunteering to do discussion panels on sexuality and essentially threatening any knucklehead in the audience who thought I was fodder for a bashing. Then I sort of went along my trippy path as a student.
What I will say being omnisexual has done, being out since I was about 18, in the cosmopolitan NYC, has done for me, and then working after a decade in corporate America at non-profits that have “gay” in the names, several times, is it sort of inured me to the thoughts of others about my sexuality.
People Know About Me. Millions of People.
I know there are thoughts, I’ve taught thousands, come out to a good two million plus people due to my books, TV show, YouTube videos over the past 15+ years, and yes, there are some times when I realize someone doesn’t know—-I’m an odd mixture of masculine-feminine—-body to mentality—-even my femininity is from an Alpha stance—-like a Queen—-in a big 6′1, 250lbs Black male body. So I’ve always been reasonably physically safe even when I exercised/jogged and was down to 170 in college. Deep voice, ask men out on dates, pay for those dates, vicious wit and a readiness to, as I announced in a dozen seminars on campus, beat someone’s natural ass who thought they could put their hands or mind on me. And yes, I slapped two people there——but that’s a love triangle/another story.
Then, within the triangle, I had itches and inklings of regret about my physicality because I realized my anger at her in my love triangle with a guy—-her and me—-was that I thought she could provide him with children, the stereotypical nuclear family that he, a big butted DL closeted Greek bottom, desperately wanted, when not being fucked by Black men. (But years later I wrote a fantastic erotic novel about it Stay With Me available on Amazon—-shameless plug).
My desire to marry (though not legally), Oprah and I are on the same freedom page about this—-couple long term is fine, and having children has always been in the mist in my head.
What I Regret
What I regret, having taught tens of thousands of LGBTSGL folk about relationships, what I regret in that is knowing the numbers of healthy to non-healthy men and having the skills for healthy relationships but the times that I have been approached, wasted time, wanted unhealthy men because those were many of the apples in the basket because of how non-hetero men are beaten by society. I’ve met some really great men who were fucked up by their sexuality and no, I’m mature enough now, and even back then in college, to know I could not save a man.
I’ll help a man walk with a broken leg as it heals, but I won’t be his crutch.
I’ll fight the enemy you can’t fight, but as I proved with the Greek dude—-if you’re just weak—-oh, I’ll clean her clock—-but then I have to leave you because you’re weak, broken, closeted, malformed, scared of what a bunch of dead relatives think of your sexual activities—-or what those strangers over there think of you/your sexuality.
I regret my liberation of self is so rare—-Black gay men, Latino, White—-so much discreet, discretion, discrete—-misspelling, number one and two, FEAR—-I detest fear. Which means, often ironically that fear-FULL men are attracted to me as a ballast against their anxiety. My power attracts the disempowered.
I regret that so many gay men only know how to offer their cock or ass as their inherent and intrinsic value, and what I must value of them, and that so many others, not prepped by women give in to looking shabby and think because of their cock and ass, they should be on my buffet. Or that because I’m Black—-White men immediately dickmotize me as I desperately want to absorb Whiteness any way possible. Or Blacks or Latinos who think my education, intelligence, is indicative of some racial bullshit because I happily date everyone and anyone of pleasant character, without regards to the social construct of race.
What do I regret?
I regret the societal effects of gayness on gay men.
I’ll tell you a funny diddy.
I was chatting up a guy on line, he actually approached me with a witty comment about international TV. So we’re having this witty conversation back and forth and he gently probes about my interest and I say some Samantha Sex In The City shit about being a libertine and perhaps a lusty sexual affair—-he was attractive. And he’s chatting me up more now. And I’m kind of thinking he’s cute, unique in his looks—-I’m finding the sexy in his pics and we start talking more in-depth about our thoughts and feelings and flirting and I say to him, thank you, thank you for not posting or sending me any nude pics—-they do nothing for me. I liked that he was dressed, handsome, smiling, happy looking and that made him uber sexy.
He says thank you…..and promptly sends me 3 nude pics.
I’m not a prude but in my saying hey, I really liked you not doing this thing and him then doing it—-red flag—-someone who doesn’t listen to specifically what I say I like, want, don’t want even when it’s to a celebration and compliment of him. That’s how strong the Gay Force Field of BS is in his head. He, kind of geeky, was batting into the solid 90s and I was thinking wow, have I just met a diamond in the literal haystack? Hmm, let me be really conscious of being thoughtful and vulnerable and honest with him———-and he fucked it up
I regret that.
I regret that it’s not the first time that's randomly happened online or in person—-that Gay Stereo is playing so loud in some heads, some attractive, that it screams Red Flags to me—-because I’m too smart and learned and wise to ignore Red Flags anymore. And I have to then consider should I further engage, this only going to get denser and worse—-just to have someone to engage with?
Sometimes I think okay, great kids and being a great parent by myself…..but healthy man or woman or poly group?……….ehhhhhh……just buy a Powerball ticket instead. I see it as I’ll have good Samantha affairs, very French, but that regretfully gay men are too gay in a challenging society, too obtuse to be normal (you do not want to know how many men say hi, online and in person, and then tell you their kink of dumping old piss on them or that they can happily take a 14″ dildo for hours—-and think THAT’S the boss sauce that will turn you on to them…forever. And then I have to extricate myself from what is really a pathological admission perhaps unconsciously designed to repel men. Your kink and fetish is not a liberated sexuality.)
I regret that there was a time where I met fun, good, sexy guys and we had romps, sweaty, sex funky, romps—-a good half dozen or so in my lifetime—- and that I didn’t put those animal tracking tags on them. lol
I regret that to gay men my being out, sane, strong, intelligent and comfortable supremely in myself, my identity, my sexuality is intimidating. It’s like I went to war to become a man in spite of societal, family and drama projections about race and sexuality…..victory was declared, got back to my Native Country—-and discovered my “side” had surrendered to their basest moralities, self hatred, self destructive sexual practices and closeted deceptiveness.
I regret that so many men who are gay fall into moral majority negative stereotyping, not from an expansive, expressive, liberated sexuality as counter heteronormative counter programming, but from a lack of humanity in exchange for base carnal, debasing acts.
Because I won’t debase others or myself, I’m a minority minority within a minority. lol
#KylePhoenix
#TheKylePhoenixShow
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