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I don't know what other people went through, but finding out that I was not the person that I believed I was (for over 21 years) threw my life into turmoil. I was scared and confused, yet I was strangely happy that I finally realized who I really was. One two and one half hour event with a special man opened my eyes and my mind.
Actually, my experience with women is very limited. Yes I've been on dates with them, but I have yet to have a real relationship (or even sex) with one--obviously, now, I don't think I ever will. I relate better to women than I do with men, probably because my father was so distant as I was growing up.
I am the baby of the family, preceded by two sisters and a brother. We all got along fine (they are all much older than I -- 11 years between me and the next) ... actually, the next one up (a sister) is one of my best friends. Anyway, the gist of the story is that essentially I was raised by my mother and youngest (but still older) sister. Dad was never there, actually he was always there, just inaccessable and seemingly uncaring, but mom more than made up for it...she was enough mother for five families.
My upbringing led to my ability to understand women (as most men do not). I always assumed that I was just more in tune with their way of thinking. I feel closer to women than (straight) men--more of a comiseration than a competition. I was taught to be a "good Christian boy," that smoking, drinking, sex before marriage, and homo-/bisexuality are wrong (and also was filled with a severe depression that everyone else seemed to be oblivious to). Well, I believed it...until college.
College is a special time in your life where you learn to live on your own and think for yourself. I realized halfway through sophomore year that I really didn't know what I believed. All of my beliefs were actually teachings from my mother, sister, friends, and teachers. I started looking in to myself...trying to find out just who I was and what I believed in. I have, now, a set of beliefs to call my own, though some are the same as what I was taught. But I still thought that I was straight and alternative sexualities were wrong (not that I hated these people--just that it was not for me).
Some time passes...I am more confident...I have decided to lead my own life and have become much happier about myself.
One of my friends and I had an interesting time during my junior year. Somewhere along the way, something happened. Neither of us is sure exactly how it came to pass, just that it did. This is the event I mentioned earlier. He was left unchanged (or, at least, unwilling to admit that he's changed). I was not.
No longer a virgin (by my definition and maybe yours) and no longer sure of myself, I was left adrift in a sea of confusion and self-loathing. I finally realized (to some extent) my true nature, but did not want to admit it...and it was destroying me. How could I have gone over 21 years without knowing that I was one of the people I was raised to despise? The only thing I could do is talk with my best female friend to help me sort out my head. She was a great help. Thank you!! (you know who you are!--Steph!)
The realization that I was gay came after some serious consideration of my emotions. I believed that I was bi because I was subconciously trying to hold on to that last remnant of "normalness." The "change" from bi to gay was easier to accept. The hard part will be telling the folks that their son is "one of those queer people."
Those who know me know that I have been going through a steady stream of small changes since getting to college, but after _that_ April, I went through the biggest change any of them has seen. A new attitude, new friends, new clothes...I am a completely different person--myself. I'm happy that I know and proud to be who/what I am. My family doesn't know yet (or maybe they do?--seems like everyone else knew before I did), but, as soon as I'm on my own and can't get thrown out of the house they're going to find out for sure...