Repressed Thoughts of Youth

I believe I first knew I was different when I was in the third grade. It was then that I first had my first physical attraction, as I look back on it today, to another boy. His name was Adam and he was in the fourth grade. I remember that during one afternoon recess, while out in the playground, Adam took off his shirt. Adam looked good without his shirt on and from that point forward during my early years in elementary and middle school I had a fondness for him. During that time I clearly didn’t know what my attraction to Adam was. Was it because I thought he looked cute without his shirt on, was it because he had that perfect unblemished and smooth golden skin that I did not, was it because he was older and a grade ahead of me, or was it because he was pretty popular. At the time, I didn’t know what the answer was. I didn’t know why I was so taken by looking at another boy without his shirt on. For Adam it was just that once, but for me it was just the beginning.

Should I have known then?

Aah, the graduation parties. The first memories that are still fairly vivid belong to those from 5th grade and moving on from elementary school. These stand out because pool parties were the parties of the day. Lot’s of pool parties with everyone in their suits. The thing that I most remember was my reluctance at many of these parties to take off my shirt. This self consciousness about my body still exists today. (I’ve never had a bad body, and today I believe it’s never been better. However, what I see is different from what others see.) I also believe those experiences in the fifth grade were the start of me covering up myself. I’ve always bought clothes bigger than necessary, I’ve always preferred being shirts rather then skins, and yes I have always been a prude. Metaphorically speaking was I trying to hide?

Should I have known then?

To celebrate moving on from middle school, 8th grade to high school, my parents threw me a graduation party at our house. I grew up in a woodsy area on a hill, and we had a gorgeous deck extending from our house. I remember as the party was wrapping up a number of us were sitting on the lounge chairs on the deck talking about our relationships and the bases we all rounded. I remember Daniel telling us about getting a hand job and all I can think about at the time was my desire to give him a hand job. This came after making out with Wendy a little earlier in the day in my basement. But what stayed with me after that day was my desire to get closer to Daniel rather than Wanda.

Should I have known then?

What about my secret crushes on the teen idols that my younger sister also idolized? She would pin-up their photos from all of those teen magazines and I would consequently find myself visiting her in her room more than she came to visit me in mine. The first was Joey McIntyre from New Kids on the Block.



I remember them having a Saturday morning cartoon show where they would intersperse the cartoon with videos of theirs. One was of the group on stage with a close-up of Joey dancing with an unbuttoned shirt, full chest exposed, and wet. I remember recording it, hiding myself in the basement, and replaying that video over and over and over again. Or what about the time when the movie A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon came out starring River Phoenix. There’s this one scene, attached clip at minute marker 1:35-2:52, that I must have watched a thousand times.



At the time I didn’t know if I was drawn to this scene because I wanted to be in the position that River was in with that older woman, or was it because I wanted to be that older woman and do the same thing to him as she had.

Should I have known then?

For most of my youth, I was lucky enough to have been sent away to sleep away camp for 8 weeks during the summer. Lucky because I really did enjoy it, lucky because not everyone had the same means to enjoy such a similar experience, lucky because it provided me the opportunity to bond with other members of the tribe (it wasn’t a religious camp but it was affiliated and most of the campers were tribe members), and lastly, lucky because it gave me the opportunity to spend 8 weeks in the same bunk with other guys my age. Now I only wish that I could offer a sensational coming of age story from this experience, but I can not. So this blog will go on. What I remember from camp were the pantie raids in the middle of the night. Sneaking out from our bunk and heading off to the girls camp, in search of their panties and to see what they looked like in the middle of the night. (among other things) At the time, I remember thinking to myself that I could care less about these excursions.

Should I have known then?

My high school years were awesome. Nonetheless the confusion persisted. I played soccer recreationally while growing up but moved to basketball in high school. Four years of basketball on the high school team, two on varsity for what? Was it the love of the game, or the love of the guys? Was it the sweaty, shirtless practices or the locker room after a game? What about my desire throughout high school to befriend all of the hot guys in class to work my way into situations where I saw them how I wanted to see them. (worked a number of times) Or what about the many times Henry and I used to wrestle either in my basement or his house. He would pretend that he was Hulk Hogan and I would pretend I was Andre the Giant. He would always take his shirt off, and I wouldn’t. I would get hard, and he wouldn’t. At least that’s how I experienced it on our final match. I left his house that day knowing something was wrong, and I only hoped that he didn’t feel it. (as I most certainly did) After that incident, we were still friends for the final 3 years of high school but not like we were before. He never brought it up and I never opened up about the sudden strength I found that day in the muscle that decided to wake up.

Should I have known then?

I just don’t know. It seems easy now to reflect back, look at my life, and pinpoint the things in my youth that I either didn’t want to see, or believe in the person that I didn’t want to be. My youth years were for the most part great, and there were certainly a lot more grey experiences to them then the black and white ones that I’ve finally opened up about here. However, I will forever have to live with the consequences, the sense of wonder, the mental anguish, and the missed opportunities of what my complete and honest life could have been. Do I have any regrets? Not really! (that's a lie, maybe one or two sexual ones) Do I look forward to my honest future? Absolutely!

In order to step forward I recognize that I must return to my innocence.

Enigma-"Return to Innocence"