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A few years ago I attended the funeral for the teenage son of a business associate. The 17-year-old boy had committed suicide, and the church was packed with mourners, both classmates of the lost boy and other business people like myself who worked with his father. They filled the church to overflowing, and sobs of anguish occasionally pierced the air, lamenting a life wasted and the senselessness of the loss.
His coffin was closed, but picture collages on easels surrounded it, showing the lad in happy times, surrounded by friends and family, on vacations around the world, and doing his favorite thing in the world: acting in his school plays and musicals. I observed his closest friends huddled together. Their mannerisms and their appearance told me at once, with my life's sense and experience, that these boys were gay. And even though I had never met the deceased boy I knew it then: he was gay too, and he had killed himself because of it.
His father was a domineering man who loved to shame others that worked under his control. He led through fear and dominance. He was wilful and would rarely listen to the opinions of others, let alone ever change his mind, even when clearly he was wrong. When he was right he would ensure everyone knew it, publicly lambasting anyone who had dared oppose him.
I loathed being there. But the sudden and completely unexpected realization that his son was gay stunned me like a bucket of ice poured over my head. This boy was gay like I was-like I am! I recall being in high school and passionately hating myself and wanting to change and be straight, and I sometimes considered whether or not the world would be better off without me around. I never tried suicide, or even got close for that matter but I admit fantasizing what it would be like if I had had the nerve to try it.
So why am I writing such a sad remembrance on Solo Touch? You'll forgive me, as I am not trying to ruin anyone's day... but a great many young people surely visit this site every day to read the erotic stories posted here, and I simply want to express an opinion that, if it helps just one person avoid such a fate, I feel I will have done something worthwhile.
My message is simple: if you are a boy and you regularly fantasize about other boys when you masturbate, you are most probably gay. There, I've said it. Please stop, take a deep breath, and think about my message. (of course, my message is the same to girls who masturbate usually thinking about girls.)
I cannot speak for the universe of gay people, but I can tell you that in my many, many years of therapy I have never met a person who has been successful in 'changing' their sexual orientation. I am a person who prides myself on being able to do anything I set my mind to, and my list of private and professional accomplishments are numerous. But try as I could, I was never able to change myself from being gay.
Looking back, I suppose I knew I was different from the time I was four years old, and I've shared that here long ago in a story I wrote and submitted back on August 17 2006 (linked above) It wasn't long after that that I realized that this was the 'wrong' way to be, and decided I would not only make my feelings a lifelong secret, but that I would change the way I was and learn to be straight. These are heavy objectives for a preschooler, but they were mine.
I recall as far back as kindergarten longing to be close to other boys whom I found powerfully, strangely and intoxicatingly attractive. I also recall my deep attraction to the teenage brother of one of my small friends. I didn't know what lust or sex was then, but I somehow already knew that these private yearnings were shamefully wrong and must never be discovered by others. By High School I was seducing other boys, both older and younger than myself, and hating myself immediately afterwards and swearing to quit cold turkey.
I masturbated frequently just like most boys do, from the age of 13 on. My masturbation fantasies were almost always about other boys I longed to be with. In a futile and shameful act, I promised myself on threat of death that I would only allow myself to masturbate if I thought about girls... and then, unable to keep that promise to myself, I vowed that if I did allow myself to fantasize about other boys, at the very least I would think only about girls at the moment of orgasm. What should have been the wonderful experience of awakening of intimacy for me became a nightmare of self loathing and self-inflicted pressure to change my programming.
People might say that I was successful in my quest to become straight, because I married young and now have a two wonderful teenage sons. But my life imploded about a dozen years ago, and my secrets all came out. After much anguish, my wife and I have decided to stay together, even though she knows that I am gay. I care for her very much, and I am usually very happy about the way things have turned out so far. When I shared about this on this site, a couple people claiming to be religious wrote in to the comments page congratulating me for finding the 'right path', causing me to sneer at the gross oversimplification they had assigned my life's journey.
I now love and accept myself, but I still masturbate thinking of guys. I wish I could have a relationship with one, but I can not now, not with the life-commitments I have made and have decided to keep. I like being who I am. Being gay is not the same as being diagnosed with a terminal disease. Especially not these days.
So, let me say it again, for male readers who are 13 or 35: if you usually think about other guys when you masturbate, start getting use to the fact that you are most likely gay, and learn to accept it, and learn to love yourself the way you are. The sun will still come up tomorrow, and life will go on as before, only you will be a happier person. I promise.