My first sexual encounters with a man started in the 7th grade. He happen to be my math teacher.
Mr. Pervert was the most popular teacher in the school.
I really don't remember how far along in the school year it was. Mr. Pervert chose me to be in charge of his book closet.
Book Closet.... Well he was in the closet also. Married with a kid. A sunday school teacher at his church.
About halfway though his class, he would give me the Key to his book closet, and have me make sure the shelves were all tidy. After about 2 weeks of making sure his book closet was all neat, he decided to come help me one day. He was talking about life and relationships, then as we finished up, he said "Let me give you a hug, you look like you could use a hug"
Well that hug lasted more than five minutes. I realized it was more than a hug when I felt his boner grinding into me.
I felt so abused. Did I turn him in? No, and why I really don't know. Maybe it was because I felt like I was special, well he told me I was. This went on a couple of more times during the rest of the school year. The next year he transfer to the high school. As my luck would have it he was my science teacher in the 10th grade. Guess who was put in charge of his Lab Closet! I dreaded it! I was older a bit more wiser.
I went to the assistant principal and told her about the Pervert. She told me I was making some very serious charges against Mr. Pervert. I took it by her reactions, that I was not the only one who turned him in. About a month later he retired, and move away from town.
How do I feel about those times? I hate him for what he did. I hate myself for ever letting it happen. If the bastard is still alive, I would have no problem beating the shit out of him!
Do I think this had any influence on me being Gay? Not at all. I have known I was gay long before Mr. Pervert came along.
I know a lot of you wonder why I am still in the closet. I guess you will have to keep reading these post. Did I tell you I don't like using the term "Gay"?
Maybe it is not the term itself. Maybe it's the people who are gay, maybe it is the Gay Bashers. Just maybe It takes away from the Flintstones theme song!
Bracken
For over 50 years I have been living in my closet.
A closet that was created by society and my family.
Back in the 60's being a homosexual was not accepted in my Southern Christian family.
To be honest I did not even know what the word homosexual meant as a young boy, the term "funny man and fruit" was used in my family. Those terms had just as much meaning as homosexual as far as I was concerned.
I guess I was around the age of 7 or 8 when I realized that I was different from other boys. I was a loner, which I enjoyed. Being in my own little world. I would always think girls were so lucky to be able to wear such pretty clothes, and not to mention they got to wear makeup!! I loved watching my mom and sister put on make up, it was like a work of art!
These blogs will jump from my child hood to my thoughts today on being gay.
I know a lot of my post will piss off some gays, but what the hell, it is my life and thoughts. It is my own hell that was created by my up bring, family, and the 60's, plus some of my own doing.
As you can see by the picture of my closet I have the doors open, but who knows if I will ever step out. Maybe writing this blog will help me and all the others like me, a fifty plus year old man finally come out, and not look back.
When I was in second grade I would walk about 4 blocks to school.
On the way home from school I would pass a black woman and her kids. I guess she was walking them home from school, which was a little weird, since I never saw any black families living anywhere near me.
They always walked on the other side of the road from me. One day I crossed the road to get a closer look at this black family. When I crossed over, the mother grabs her kids hands and crossed the other side.
The next day I crossed over, and again, the mother grab hold of her kids and crossed to the other side again!
I asked my grandfather why they would always cross over so they would not be on the same side of road as me. My grandfather told me "If a police man happen to drive by and see them on the same side of the street as me, he would arrest them." He went on saying that it is against the law for blacks to walk on the same side of the road as a white person. I guess that was the first time I noticed that people were treated different.
Even 45 yrs later, we still treat others different.
Before I go on, I guess I should let everyone know that I am a married, well separated man. I have wonderful kids, and even more wonderful grand kids!
As I said at the beginning of this post I have always known I was different. A funny man, fruit, a homosexual, Gay man.
It's getting late, so I will crawl into bed and dream about that man, soul mate that I know is out there. Then wake up in the morning and head to work in my straight world. I'll try to catch you tomorrow night.
Bracken
