July 1997

"Where do I take this pain of mine?"

-- Metallica

Taylor is a pseudonym.

Well, here I am after months of hesitation, writing my very first Oasis column. . . where shall I start? I suppose I should describe what I look like? I'm 5'-8", dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes, somewhere around 185 pounds. I also have a Nike Air habit that's a little out of control (6 pairs and counting)! I'm in my late twenties. By the way, I'm gay. Now on to the juicy stuff. . .

My Evolution To Gayness

I use the term "evolution" because up until I was in my early teens, I was totally heterosexual. . . I mean 100%! Even to this day I'm not sure what made me become gay; I have some ideas, but I just can't put a finger on one thing or one particular event that changed my sexuality. But I do know for sure that it was a very gradual change.

I'm the youngest of three boys, and as a very young boy I was precocious. Having older brothers and hanging out with them and their friends was a eye-opening experience! I saw my first Hustler magazine at age 6 for crying out loud!!! I also smoked my first cigarette around the same age (I haven't smoked since I was 16). Not very good (or healthy) things for a young boy to experience.

One hot Indian Summer afternoon when I was 7, I was playing in a field that was right behind our house -- you could see it from the kitchen window -- and a older boy jumped me, pulled down my shorts and raped me. I started to scream for help, so he penetrated me all the way and started to punch me, telling me to shut up or he'd hurt me even more! I can still relive some of the physical sensations of that attack: The feeling of the cold Vaseline being squirted into my rectum, the unimaginable pain of being penetrated, his punches, the weight of his body on me. Twenty years haven't erased those feelings.

When he was finished with me, he penetrated me all the way again and told me how good I was, how I had made him feel so incredible. . . and then with the threat of doing it to me again, he made me say I liked it. . . over and over again, like a machine gun spitting out gratitude instead of bullets. He pulled himself out of me and made me cover my eyes; I could hear him pull up his shorts and then he told me to count to twenty really slow. As I whispered the numbers I heard him run off, and for a while I lay there, my semi-naked body absorbing the heat from the sun, the terror mixing with the shock in my mind.

The spell was broken by my mother calling me to supper, and the very first words out of her mouth were: "You're filthy! Get cleaned up for supper!" I was in a daze, and somehow I no longer felt the pain. My mom told me to go get the gallon of milk and pour myself a glass. . . when I did she came out and screamed at me because I hadn't shaked up the milk to mix the cream in with the other liquid (we used to buy several gallons of milk at a time and freeze them; the cream -- in whole milk -- floats to the top and has to be shaken or else you have skim milk!!) Her exact words were: "You f**king bastard, you ruined a gallon of milk!" and she slapped me really hard. I had to finish my supper not only feeling the pain of her backhand, but the growing pain of my rectum.

Right after eating, I had to take a bath, and I remember how the water had a bloody tinge to it -- I was scared out of my mind, but I was too afraid to tell anyone about what had happened to me. . . actually, I don't think I even knew what had happened to me. Rape was not a word second graders knew back then! My dad came in to use the bathroom and I curled up into a fetal position-he didn't ask me what was wrong, he just closed the shower curtain and used the commode. He didn't even notice the water! Maybe he thought I was just really dirty??? I recall stuffing a big wad of toilet paper into my rectum when I was done drying off, and I went straight to bed. A couple days later I had my first bowel movement since being assaulted, and I had to bury my face in a towel so I could scream and cry without anyone hearing me. . . I felt like my intestines were being ripped out of me!!! The bloody toilet paper freaked me out, but I just couldn't go and tell my parents what had happened. To this day I wonder how that would have turned out?

I was never the same after that. My rape changed how I felt about people, and I no longer felt trust towards anyone. Around that time my mom became abusive towards me --I found out years later that she had to have a hysterectomy, thereby destroying her dream of having a daughter -- soon her verbal assaults were joined by physical ones. I became scared of entering my own home after school -- sometimes I'd be greeted with a snack, other times with her fist. I never knew what to expect.

She started to become paranoid about a year later, and she got the idea that I was on drugs!! Imagine that, a eight-year-old on drugs in 1978!!! Not in a nice suburb, sorry! I had a really big allowance for a kid that age ($10/wk)and she would take the money off of me as "evidence" that I was buying drugs. . . she used little scraps of chalk I had gotten from school as "proof" that I was using cocaine. I'm not making this up!!!

I began to show the effects of her neglect. I've always had terrible vision, and only after several letters from the school nurse was I taken to a eye doctor and given glasses, which my mom promptly broke after she kept "adjusting" for me. They weren't replaced for three years. Imagine having to go that long with sitting in the front row and barely being able to make out what was on the blackboard! I started to get severe migraines, and in order to get a aspirin, I'd have to go ask my mom for one and the usual result was a aspirin and a slap across my forehead. . . I'd be paralyzed with pain!

When third grade was over, I heard my mom talking on the phone, and I remember hearing "Get that f**king bastard out of here! He's driving me nuts!" and a few hours later my grandparents came and took me to stay with them during the whole summer. I had always been a skinny kid, but over that summer my grandma made me eat an enormous amount of food, and by the time I was ready to go back to school I was very overweight! Naturally I was picked on, and I got equal abuse in school and at home. I didn't know that it wasn't normal for parents to hurt their kids, I actually thought all parents did that!!!

Around that time I experienced a large number a sexual abuse incidents, most of them occurring in mens' rooms, and others with some of the friends my brothers hung out with. One that would frequently occur was we'd go into the cellar and they would watch this one kid have anal sex with me. . . I just totally hated how that felt!!! Sometimes they made me fellate him, and that may have been when I actually started to become gay? I hated how they made me do that, but I liked the taste. But no matter what, I was never sexually pleasured. . . I was the giver, not the receiver. I always felt funny about that.

Around the same time, a person that my family knew started to sexually abuse me. He was a few years older than me, and he had a enormous penis for a person his age -- I really do mean enormous! He would find out if I did something wrong, and then I had a choice of : a) Doing whatever he wanted me to do to him (usually oral sex) and what I did would remain a secret or b) he'd stick his penis in my butt and then tell on me anyway and I'd get a beating. He used to whip it out and hold it like a policeman holds a nightstick, a unsubtle reminder of what could happen. Nice choices. . . . . . This went on until he was 18, and afraid of going to real jail. Trust me, there's still alot of shame attached to what he did to me!


When I was in seventh grade I still hadn't started puberty, but then when it hit me it was like a hurricane! My penis literally grew from the same size it had been all my life to adult size within one night!!!! I used to measure it all the time! I also had pubic hair sprout at the same speed. . . I'm not sure how normal such rapid growth is??? One day I was bald, the next it was full. . . strange!

Around this time I started masturbating, and my thoughts were always on girls. . . it was all I ever thought about in school -- I almost failed seventh grade!!! Then the person who had been forcing me to have sex with him started doing it again after ceasing for a few years. . . he was also more physical this time. I started fighting back, biting him when he tried to get me to fellate him, and after a while he stopped doing it. . . until he discover that getting me stoned was a easy way to get me to have sex with him. It's just like a guy getting a woman drunk so he can "get what he wants". Only this was worse!!!

When I was in the ninth grade, I met a eighth-grader I'll call Matt. Matt and I were alot alike, we liked the same stuff and were both fat. We became fast friends, and one day I was over at his house and he asked me if I wanted to look at some dirty magazines -- naturally I said "sure"!!! So we looked at these really graphic magazines, and the next thing I knew he had his shorts down and he was going at it, and I joined him. . . we started doing this alot, almost every day. Then one time I was sitting on the couch in the living room and he stood in front of me and pulled down his pants and told me to blow him. . . it took a good half-hour of prodding before I did it to him. He ejaculated in my mouth, and I think that was another turning point for me. . . I liked it! His mom came home right after that and I had to leave because he wasn't allowed to have anyone over when he was home alone. . . actually, that happened quite often. I would have to take care of him first but when it became my turn, well, I was out of luck. It wasn't until I told him that I wouldn't do anything else to him unless he did me that he actually would do it. He performed oral sex on me and I think I ejaculated at once. . . he was mad because I didn't warn him first and he spit my sperm all over the carpeting. . . I didn't really care because I had finally felt a orgasm given my someone other than myself.

Matt and I weren't friends too much longer after that, I suppose that he finally realized that things would have to be more even between us now, and he wasn't willing to go along with that. One thing that he did for me was to have these girls come over to his house one weekend when nobody else was home, and there I lost my virginity. It wasn't a good experience, but at least all the waiting was over.

The strangest thing is that I had a attitude like 'That's all there is to it?'. . . it wasn't at all like what I expected it would be, and I'll go as far as to say that the oral sex Matt gave me was a million times better that being with a woman, with him it felt natural. Around this time I started to question my sexuality, I noticed that I was having crushes on guy instead of girls, and I was masturbating to the boy's swimsuit pages of a major department stores summer catalog. I was still interested in girls, but I was also becoming more into guys. I tried dating as a sophomore, but no girl was interested in a fat guy, but there were some guys that showed interest in me, however subtle it was. I was deeply confused!

My parents had split up when I was a sophomore, and as a result I lived with my dad. We had to move a few miles away from the quiet suburb I had grown up in, and the two places were like night and day! There was more to do in my new hometown, and it was more open. But I still missed the old place. . . to this day I often drive around there, letting the memories come back to me.

So here I was in a new high school as a total unknown. I didn't know how to cope with things at first and I was a loner for a while. I was in the vocational training department at the school, which was actually a separate building. It may as well been a separate planet!!!! The people were stuck in the 70's, all you saw anyone wear was t-shirts, jeans and almost every guy had long hair! A large percentage of the students smoked, and alot of them smoked pot! Our school motto was "Peace and pot we love alot"! I had started out as a preppy junior, and within a few weeks I was blending in with the other students. I felt at home there, but I also felt alienated because I was becoming more aware of my gayness. I went out with some girls from there, but I just wasn't interested in them. There was this freshman that I had the hots for, I'll call him Scott, and I knew he was gay. . . he lived up to alot of the stereotypes. I also knew that he was involved with this other gay guy in his class. I also had a serious crush on another freshman, who was a total blue-eyed-blonde-haired stud. . . and he was really cool to me! But I just didn't know how to made a move towards Scott.

By the time I graduated I had gone four whole years without having sex with anyone, and it was really getting to me. At the same time I was constantly being hit on by creepy guys at the local mall, which had become my refuge. I would go up and talk with guys a few years younger than me, and try to get them to go into a changing room or rest room with me, but nothing ever happened. I then started to focus all my energy on losing weight, by then I had weighed close to 230 pounds, all of it fat!!! I started dieting and within two years I was down to 170. . . I felt great, but I still had this cloud over my head about my gayness. Which brings me to. . .

Where I Am Today

After fighting my gayness over the past decade-and-a-half, I've finally decided that it's a losing battle: I'm gay and I'd better accept it, because it's not going to change. I suppose this attitude has made a difference in my life and how I look at things, but I don't feel all that different since I accepted being gay. I'm not out, and don't plan on coming out anytime soon, but I have told two close friends. Both are accepting of it, having a "OK, that's cool" attitude, but the one friend makes a point of asking me alot of questions about my sexuality, and some of those things I'm not ready to share. It's trying sometimes for me to be asked stuff that I don't even have the answers to!!!

After not having had sex with anyone in so long, I'm ready to have my first real boyfriend, but there's some qualities that I'm after that aren't all that easy to find!

I live in a area that doesn't have too much of a "gay" scene, but the attitude here is simple: To fit in to the "gay" group, you'd better be a flame. . . I really hate that, because I'm just a regular guy that happens to be gay, and being a flame is just not something I want to do to fit in with the crowd. Sorry if that offends anyone, but I'm just telling the truth!

I work in a very large retail establishment, and every work shift I see guys that I'd LOVE to get to know better, but I just don't know how to approach them? I'm not sure how to tell who's gay and who isn't (except for the flames, which I'm not attracted to). I just with the right guy would come along and hit on me, and then I'd have it easy. Such things usually just happen in Hollywood!!!

I've pretty much figured out what physical features I want in a guy, and I guess I'm pretty picky! I want one that's between 5'-6" and 5'-10" tall, brown/blonde/red hair(as long as it's not dyed), and slightly chubby. . . for some reason I like slightly chubby guys? I also like guys that are quiet and not into all that macho crap. I'm not too big of a sports fan either. But the main thing is that he be down to earth, I'm not into phony people!!! I'm going on vacation later this month, so I plan on visiting some gay bars, and maybe I'll find someone for me? But around here there's not scene so I'm stuck.

Well, I'm going to cut this one off. So see you next time!!!!


[About the Author]

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