When people talk about being gay or bisexual, it’s always about the physical aspect. Am I attracted to men? Yes. Do I like all that dick–in–butt stuff? Yes. The conversation normally ends there. No one ever asks about how attraction and friendship can combine to create feelings of love—and that’s what I’m still having trouble with. I never really understood love before all this, and I definitely don’t understand it now.
At a forward–thinking school like Penn, I feel like everybody has heard this story before. It’s the classic gay self–discovery tale: young man has an inkling that he’s attracted to men since middle school, but never bothers to address it. For me, it took until my senior year of college to finally decide to take the plunge, download Grindr and hook up with some men—and tell my friends.
My foray into sexual exploration has been eye–opening because I dove in head first—I’ve hooked up with big guys, small guys, old guys, young guys, black guys, white guys, Asian guys and Latino guys. I’ve had sex in the back of a pizza shop, in a car, in a public restroom and I had a threesome in a hotel. I’ve had guys offer me meth, volunteer money for sex or ask if they can wear my sweaty underwear and smear them with raw eggs (Ed. note: Those last two were the same person. Pick your battles next time, buddy.) One guy asked if he could eat my chewed up food. Though there are odd moments like this, it’s overall been a rewarding experience from a physical perspective—I think most people would agree that more sex equals more fun. But it’s left me with a lot of open questions about the emotional aspect of relationships.
I had a girlfriend for three years in high school and had plenty of great sex with her. I’ve had tons of crushes on girls. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I meet a cute girl who shares my sense of humor. From what I understand, those are the feelings that turn into love. The odd thing is, I’ve never felt that way towards a guy. Maybe it’s because I haven’t met enough guys, or maybe it’s just that the Grindr scene is all about hookups. But I’ve never felt an emotional attachment to another guy.
Now, I’m questioning everything I know about love because I’m not sure if those feelings and those butterflies I felt for girls were even real. Maybe the love I had believed myself to have experienced wasn’t real. Maybe I have no conception of what love even is. How could one half of the population make me emotional, nervous and excited while the other half just makes me horny? Or am I just attracted to how easy Grindr makes these encounters to find? The worst part is, sometimes, I feel like I betray the gay community by being interested in men only for sex.
If you’re gay, you probably have some sympathy, but think I’m just a lost soul on his way to gayhood. If you’re straight, you’re probably reading this and wondering why it’s so complicated. Love is a simple idea that even little kids are able to wrap their heads around. Either way, even my typical “coming out” story has some nuance to it, and I hope this Valentine’s Day can give us an opportunity to appreciate it.
The bottom line is that I haven’t actually discovered much about myself through this whole period of self–discovery. But I’ve accepted that there’s no deadline on this task. I’m perfectly comfortable doing what I’m doing because, eventually, I’ll figure myself out. Confucius said, “True wisdom is knowing what you don’t know.” Before, I had no idea what I still needed to learn about my love life. I had these thoughts and feelings, but I never acknowledged them or addressed them. Now, I’ve accepted my ignorance. I know that I know nothing about love. I can’t provide a definition of it, and I don’t know how it's going to make its way into my life. But at least I know where I need to explore.
