The terms I’ve used to define my sexual orientation have changed substantially overtime—as has my understanding of my longings, attractions, and desires.
When I was in my early twenties, I identified as asexual. I found myself attracted to images online, but not flesh and blood human bodies. Mostly, I liked looking at pictures of enormously muscular and fantastically well-endowed men and imagining what I would feel like if I looked like them. I also enjoyed seeing pictures of oversized labia—but I was aware that they provided slightly less of a thrill for me than hyper-masculine bodies. Additionally, I very much enjoyed watching myself jackoff in the mirror—but I never fantasized about sexual acts with anyone else.
Just after my 25th birthday, I had a couple of friends plunge me into the world of dating. They set me up an online dating profile and encouraged me to try it. Over that first year of dating, I had my first kiss, my first fuck, and my first falling-in-love. I ended up going on 2-4 dates per week...probably about ninety-something first dates in total over the course of the year. I began dating both men and women—but that eventually boiled down to exclusively men.
I still felt so confused by my orientation. For a while I was identifying as bisexual, but I recognized that my longing for men was much stronger. To sort everything out, I resolved to write myself a long letter where I described all of my sexual longings from as far back as I could remember. Realizing that they were vastly pertaining to men, I began to identify as gay and came out publicly.
Since that time, I’ve had some fabulous relationships with other men—and ended up getting married to the most amazing human I’ve ever met. He is intelligent, kind, handsome AF, deeply insightful, loving, and radiates with spiritual energy. I love him with my whole heart.
The comfort he has given me has allowed me to reexamine some of my older desires and experiences that I have shoved to the side.
One such discovery, from the recent past, pertains to the realization that I am still attracted to women’s sexual organs. Even though it’s exceedingly rare that I meet a woman in real life who I feel compelled to fuck, the feeling occasionally arises. I still very much enjoy looking at big boobs and meaty labia in videos and pictures.
Two, the fantasies I had as a young man about growing hugely muscular and enormously well endowed are still present—even though I thought it was merely a surrogate for openly acknowledging my attraction to men. To watch myself masturbate in the mirror and imagine myself with fifty pounds more muscle or several inches more dick makes me enormously aroused. This growth fantasy is an enormous part of my orientation—and is something that feels independent of craving any external partner.
I now try to openly explore making my body bigger and more hung as a way to fulfill these longings. I have also explored a sexual relationship with a lady friends of ours, who my husband and I both love very much.
All this said, it leads me to currently identifying as omnisexual. Even though I am still predominantly attracted to men, calling myself “gay” no longer feels entirely encompassing of my full experience. I’m not sure auto-sexual is a term—but that one could potentially also apply.
My reason for sharing all of this is for one, particular reason: to encourage you to love yourself for where you are. Accept where you are. If your sexuality also does not fit into neat, easily checked boxes, you are not alone. We are all complex, layered, and ever-shifting. What might feel like a “true” label one week might not be, a week later.
Have compassion for yourself. Allow yourself to be wherever you are—and do not judge yourself too harshly for your desires. Be aware—be kind—be compassionate. Be respectful of all life. And allow yourself to be the human that you were made to be.
Namaste.
When I was in my early twenties, I identified as asexual. I found myself attracted to images online, but not flesh and blood human bodies. Mostly, I liked looking at pictures of enormously muscular and fantastically well-endowed men and imagining what I would feel like if I looked like them. I also enjoyed seeing pictures of oversized labia—but I was aware that they provided slightly less of a thrill for me than hyper-masculine bodies. Additionally, I very much enjoyed watching myself jackoff in the mirror—but I never fantasized about sexual acts with anyone else.
Just after my 25th birthday, I had a couple of friends plunge me into the world of dating. They set me up an online dating profile and encouraged me to try it. Over that first year of dating, I had my first kiss, my first fuck, and my first falling-in-love. I ended up going on 2-4 dates per week...probably about ninety-something first dates in total over the course of the year. I began dating both men and women—but that eventually boiled down to exclusively men.
I still felt so confused by my orientation. For a while I was identifying as bisexual, but I recognized that my longing for men was much stronger. To sort everything out, I resolved to write myself a long letter where I described all of my sexual longings from as far back as I could remember. Realizing that they were vastly pertaining to men, I began to identify as gay and came out publicly.
Since that time, I’ve had some fabulous relationships with other men—and ended up getting married to the most amazing human I’ve ever met. He is intelligent, kind, handsome AF, deeply insightful, loving, and radiates with spiritual energy. I love him with my whole heart.
The comfort he has given me has allowed me to reexamine some of my older desires and experiences that I have shoved to the side.
One such discovery, from the recent past, pertains to the realization that I am still attracted to women’s sexual organs. Even though it’s exceedingly rare that I meet a woman in real life who I feel compelled to fuck, the feeling occasionally arises. I still very much enjoy looking at big boobs and meaty labia in videos and pictures.
Two, the fantasies I had as a young man about growing hugely muscular and enormously well endowed are still present—even though I thought it was merely a surrogate for openly acknowledging my attraction to men. To watch myself masturbate in the mirror and imagine myself with fifty pounds more muscle or several inches more dick makes me enormously aroused. This growth fantasy is an enormous part of my orientation—and is something that feels independent of craving any external partner.
I now try to openly explore making my body bigger and more hung as a way to fulfill these longings. I have also explored a sexual relationship with a lady friends of ours, who my husband and I both love very much.
All this said, it leads me to currently identifying as omnisexual. Even though I am still predominantly attracted to men, calling myself “gay” no longer feels entirely encompassing of my full experience. I’m not sure auto-sexual is a term—but that one could potentially also apply.
My reason for sharing all of this is for one, particular reason: to encourage you to love yourself for where you are. Accept where you are. If your sexuality also does not fit into neat, easily checked boxes, you are not alone. We are all complex, layered, and ever-shifting. What might feel like a “true” label one week might not be, a week later.
Have compassion for yourself. Allow yourself to be wherever you are—and do not judge yourself too harshly for your desires. Be aware—be kind—be compassionate. Be respectful of all life. And allow yourself to be the human that you were made to be.
Namaste.