#latent homosexuality
Mother used to like telling me, how where she thought I was always open minded for a boy, when I was in “girl mode” however, she speculated I may somewhat have a preference for men.
Mischievously winking knowingly, she would like to go further, insisting that if she didn’t know any better, she’d think my female alternate persona was actually a straight girl. Blushing furiously, I could never bring myself to respond.
When you were an “open-minded” boy in everyday life…….. but a straight girl the moment you stepped into a dress
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I dreamed of finding myself in her position way too many times in my youth.
As you can imagine, such thoughts were deeply unsettling for a boy to experience, and just as unsettling, was how I knew that there would come to be a time, where I would feel somewhat differently about them. Dare say it…… even wish that they happened more frequently……
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Without question, the most frightening my boyhood nightmares, weren’t actually nightmares at all. Being the ones which were deeply homoerotic. The shocking sight of myself effeminately among scantily clad, muscular specimens. Without words, she was saying,
“Whats the problem, don’t you want to play with the boys? Scared you might be……
…………. turned on?”
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Even early in my youth, I not only had an open mind for a boy, but always had a very naughty, transgressive overactive imagination. Having had a love for history and a fascination with the greatest princesses, my fondest dream was of imagining having been the most powerful and beautiful boy-princess of a great ancient mediterranean empire . Where each night, I would retire to my sleeping chamber, where fifty of the sexiest champion gladiators of the empire, would be waiting for me. Smothered by and enveloped in their oiled muscular bodies and hard throbbing cocks
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A boy feeling such disconcerting emotions, knowing he didn’t feel the same things about girls on the tv shows, as all the other boys. A boy supposed to desire them, not want to wear what they were wearing, and be dancing on stage with them…..
Reminiscent of so many boyhood dreams that caused me such anxiety and confusion. Not to mention countless bed sheets drenched in orgasms…..
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Oh the peer pressures of boyhood. That constant worry whether the other boys will ask you something, which shows you know absolutely nothing about cars… about sports. That you know absolutely nothing about what it is like, to actually….
…. be attracted to girls…..
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Many of my boyhood obsessions, where of many of the same girls that all the other boys drooled over. I desperately didn’t want to admit to myself, how the biggest gratification I got, was from the impression of being into girls, that my friends believed, and that I so wanted to believe, that my love of glamour, was the same as the actual desire for girls that my friends had. How every time when looking through girly magazines with my friends, I secretly was made to feel overwhelmed by the discomfort, in being confronted by how my relationship to girls weren’t anything like the desires my friend’s had for them. That they weren’t in any way a desire for girls, but an appreciation of beauty and glamour that an average girl would have, looking through a fashion magazine. These uncomfortable truths would lead me open to more uncomfortable truths. That where my love of glamour was like that of a girl, that my true desires were for the same things that girls desire….. and that I wouldn’t be able to run from these desires forever……..
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Things you can relate to as a fairy…
My genuine terror at the sight of women’s naked bodies, when my father left one of his private tapes in the VCR, would somewhat be telling of how I would come to feel about women when older….
#girls are not for me #men only
An evocative image…
Reminiscent of the days off school I would spend at home all alone. Laying there in mother’s clothes, daydreaming about things that I would otherwise never allow myself to think about. Things that deeply scared me. Things which brought so much more pleasure than the things a boy was supposed to think about……
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The perfect magazine for dainty, vulnerable boys, insecure in their sexuality. Who just need that little push, to let go and succumb to effeminacy and homosexuality forever!
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In seeing this lovely little illustration, I think how wonderful it would be if growing up as a boy in western culture, meant that there was no fixation on sexual orientation, there was simply sex. Where from an early age, variety would be seen as healthy. The everyday representation of a boy’s sexuality, depicted desire not only for busty, curvaceous women, but for large muscular men, along with the natural desire most boys share with females, to suck cock.
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Things you can relate to as having been shy, delicate boy….
you reacted involuntarily in the same way as any girl, when receiving tickets to see the hunkiest teen heart throb of the time.
The heart throb that left the girls panties drenched, and your bedsheets every night.
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We shy best friends did many things when alone together, which the other boys would never do, things which we would later hope to be long forgotten.
We thought we were funny. But in reality we looked like two effeminate boys, making fun of something we didn’t really understand, the heterosexual desires of the other boys. More so, we looked like two effeminate boys, who very, very liked kissing eachother……
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