Back in the Day: A Journey of Teenage Males to Love, Be Loved and Accepted for Who They Are.

Being Different

My first inclination that I was different was when boys talked about girls. Their conversations didn’t interest me. Oddly, at the same time my thoughts about boys were exactly what the boys described about girls. I felt this made me odd; it made me strange and weird compared to my peers. Other kids in my class would look at girls and talk about how they would like to play with these girls. All I could do was think about playing with the boys. I could not fathom why on earth I would think these thoughts.

I was raised fairly religious and we learned from the Bible that man was not meant to lie with another man. So why was it that I had the desire to lie with another male? There was nowhere for me to turn and ask questions of anyone. I had no resources to draw from to find the answers that I so longed to find. Back then, you couldn’t talk to your friends about this type of thing as you definitely would be setting yourself up for public ridicule. It was tough enough to get through everyday living at school as it was without this shame that I thought of boys in the same way as other boys thought about girls.

I didn’t even know what two boys would do together as we had different body parts than girls had. It was a dilemma that would take me a while to figure out. All I knew at the time was that I was different. I never imagined how difficult the process would be to figure out why I was thinking the things I shouldn’t be thinking.

I remember once when one of the few friends that I did have, came over and stayed overnight on the weekend. We watched TV and played games and horsed around. We even had pillow fights. One time we fell onto the bed and one of us landed on top of the other. It caused a stirring between my legs that I didn’t understand and quickly moved before my friend noticed. Then thoughts began racing through my head, What if he noticed what just happened? Would he tell people at school? Would he just keep quiet and not say anything at all? Did he even realize what happened? It was a feeling that I had never experienced. Those were the things that no one ever discussed unless it was a girl that caused those feelings and sensations. For now, I decided to let it go and not bring the subject up. It was bad enough that I was embarrassed by it, but didn’t want to embarrass my friend as well. I didn’t have too many friends and didn’t want to risk losing a friend.

I was a bit apprehensive on Monday about going to school in fear that my friend would have started telling his buddies what happened and then being labeled as one of those. Every time I turned a corner there were kids from my class. They would look at me very briefly and then turn back to whatever they were talking about with their friends. I wasn’t sure how to interpret their looks. I mean, no one looked and then giggled or cracked queer jokes or anything like that. It was more like a silence or the calm before the storm.

After first period math, I headed down the hallway to science class. I saw my friend heading towards me in the hall. I wanted to try and pretend not to see him so that the chances would be less that he might mention what happened over the weekend. As he approached me on his way to his next class, he just waved and said Hey like he always did. There was no smile, no stern look, just a blank expression on his face as we passed each other.

The rest of the school day was pretty uneventful. It was one class after the other. We were in junior high and still had recess back then. As usual, I just hung out in the fenced in area to the side of the school where I watched the other kids playing basketball, or the girls jumping rope. I was never into anything athletic. I would just sit on the side lines and watch the others. Sometimes they would ask me to be the scorekeeper. It wasn’t that bad as I was quite good in math and was able to keep score in my head. Once the bell rang signaling that it was time to go back inside, we all had to line up single file and walk back into the school and head to the cafeteria for lunch. Lunch was a pretty lonely time for me. Everyone seemed to have their own clique that sat together. The only ones that sat near me were the weird kids that were bound and destined for geek or nerd status. I didn’t fit in with any of the cliques, nor did I fit in with the nerds and geeks. I was in a class of my own. I was the outsider, always on the sideline looking in, trying to find a place where I belonged.

In the early 1970’s if you wanted to be a part of any clique you either had to be athletic or you had to be the type that the girls were hanging all over. To be a nerd and a geek you wore white socks, boxers, black plastic framed glasses that were ill fitting and you had pocket protectors so that the pen ink or the pencil lead did not mark up your shirt pocket. And none of this was me. I wondered if there was some sort of group that I would fit into.

I couldn’t wait for the last bell of the day to sound so that I could get out of the building and go home where I felt safe and not be bothered by anyone. As soon as I got home I would start on my homework. I never had the ability to concentrate well on my studies. I had a mind that wandered a lot, always wondering what it would be like to be part of a group. At that point, I didn’t care if it meant being part of the nerds or the geeks. I just wanted to fit in somewhere.

Days went by and interaction between me and my friend was almost nonexistent. All the while, I never knew if he remembered that night and how I reacted physically or if he even realized. On Friday, with slight reservations in my head, I had asked him if he wanted to come over that weekend. Unfortunately he had other plans. Was this some excuse or did he really have other plans? It wasn’t until lunch time when one of the nerdy geeks asked me what I was doing that weekend. I responded with the usual Nothing much, what about you? His name was Josh. He was probably one of the smartest kids in my eight grade class, but still considered a nerdy geek. He asked if I wanted to hang out. I hesitated for a moment. I felt if I agreed and anyone from school found out that I would be defined by them as a nerdy geek. That would have killed me to be labeled that way, but at the same time it would make me fit in somewhere, a part of a group. Reluctantly, I agreed to hang out. Josh was going to be staying at his grandmothers’ house for the weekend as his parents were going out of town. He told me if it wasn’t for that he would have asked me to come and sleep over. For a loner, you are not that bad a person he told me. It kind of makes you stand out from the rest But those were words I didn’t really want to hear. I didn’t want to stand out I wanted to hear that I fit in somewhere and to blend in with others.

I called home and talked with my mother and got the okay for Josh to come spend the night at our house if he could get his grandmothers’ permission. Josh called her and she said it would be all right as long as she had the phone number where to reach him at. So we walked to his grandmothers’ and he got a backpack and put some clean clothes in it and other stuff he wanted to bring and we headed for my house. That Friday night was uneventful and we just stretched out on the living room floor watching television.

When it came time for bed, we had to share the big bed in my room. I suddenly became nervous as a result of what had happened when my other friend had stayed over that one night. We changed into pajamas and climbed into bed and just laid there talking about anything and everything. I knew Josh fit into the weird group because while we were changing I noticed his mother made him wear white boxer shorts. Josh was little bigger than me so the boxers clung to his body. There were about as snug fitting on him as my white jockey shorts were on me. It wasn’t difficult to tell that for 12 years old, he was fairly well developed down there. It wasn’t like I was staring at him in his underwear, or was I? So we laid there and talked about school and how he and the other kids that fell into his category were constantly teased and mistreated. Somehow, it seemed very easy to talk with Josh about anything. It felt good to have someone to talk to for a change. Suddenly, out of nowhere, while we were talking, I could feel his hand move to my thigh. I didn’t really know what was going on at the time. The only thing I knew for sure was that it made me tingle and made me stir down there. He continued to touch me all over. Josh whispered, Does this bother you? I can stop if you want. I didn’t really know how to respond. I just shrugged my shoulders and said, It’s ok I guess. That must have meant to him that he was free to let his hand roam. In a way it was uncomfortable but at the same time it felt good. He moved his hand upward so that he was rubbing my chest. It sent sensations through me that I didn’t quite understand.

Every now and then he would whisper to me, Just tell me anytime you don’t want me to do this anymore and I will stop. I wanted to tell him a number of times, but at the same time I wanted him to keep going so I could figure out what these sensations were and why I was feeling them. I thought in my head that guys only did this with girls. But here I was having a guy touch me. At one point, Josh slid his fingers beneath the waistband of my pajamas then beneath the waist band of my underwear. His hand stopped once his fingers were inside my shorts and just let his hand rest there. He asked me what I wanted him to do. That is, if I wanted him to do more. I didn’t know how to respond. I turned towards him slightly so that I was still lying on my back and told him that I didn’t know. He looked into my eyes with this look that made me feel like we connected in some way. He asked me, You’ve never done this before have you? I shook my head in silence. He said it was okay and that we could stop if I wanted. I wasn’t sure how to reply. I thought we should stop. He felt my stiffening and told me it would be okay and that he would never do anything to hurt me. He took one of my hands and placed it over the fly of his pajamas. He was in the same condition as I. I had never touched anyone like that before.

He began to play with it, so I repeated his actions. I felt a funny stirring inside me like it was going to explode. Josh giggled lightly. You learn fast buddy. We continued this until I erupted. I had just experienced my first climax. It must have excited him knowing what he had just done to me that he had his own eruption. I jerked my hand back quickly not understanding what was going on. When we were both done, I slipped quietly to the bathroom and got us something to clean up with. I came back to bed and we each took an end of the towel and cleaned up the mess that was coating our bodies underneath our pajamas. We looked at each other as if to say No one is to know about this. He just lay there staring at me. What? I asked. He asked if he could do one more thing. All that went through my head was wondering what else could there be besides this. I just said, I guess so. He brought his face closer to mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath brushing my cheek. I got scared and closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself for whatever came next. Then it happened. I felt his lips pressing against mine as he kissed me. It wasn’t a wet sloppy kiss like he heard guys talk about that they did with girls. It was a simple, delicate kiss and lasted a very short time. As he pulled away, a part of me didn’t want him to stop. He asked if I was okay and I just nodded. I looked into his eyes and I swear all I could see was a very lonely boy, looking and yearning for affection and tenderness. I turned onto my side and put my arm over his chest. I leaned into him and kissed him back while holding him tightly to me.

I knew this was something that only guys and girls were supposed to do, but it felt good. It felt like I belonged (to him) if only for that night. We dozed off after a little while. I kept waking up during the night to make sure he was still there. Each time I woke, there he was, still lying under my arm. I didn’t want to wake him, so I left my arm there and that is how we stayed the remainder of the night.

The next morning, when we woke, nothing was said about the events of the night, but we could tell from the looks we gave each other that something indeed had happened between us and would this be something that would happen again. It was tough to try and sort through it all. At that time, there was no name to be put to what we did. We were just 12 years old. There had to be a name for it, but how would I figure it out. Saturday was upon us and Josh and I put some food in a knapsack and we headed up to a pond behind the cemetery. We walked through the woods to the pond and found an open spot to sit and eat our lunches. I could tell from the look in Josh’s eyes that there was something inside him, waiting to be spoken. He placed one of his hands on my knee. He looked at me, Um… can I ask you something? I told him to go ahead and ask and if I had an answer I would give it to him. He quietly asked as though if any louder someone might hear him, Does this mean we are homos? I was stunned. I didn’t really understand the meaning of the word homo. As I told him about my lack of knowledge, he described how it was short for homosexual. This began conjuring up a million questions in my head. I told him I had to sort through this and figure it out and I would tell him what I found later. But for now, I said that we had to keep it quiet and not tell anyone.

We finished eating our lunch and started to make the trek back to my house. Josh had to head back to his grandmother’s house. That left me with the remainder of the weekend to try and sort out what happened, and what he had asked me. I figured there was only one place I might find the answers.

The Library

It was still early on Saturday. The library was open for at least another four hours or so. I went to the card catalog and started looking up the words homo and homosexual. There were dozens and dozens of cards with titles of books and authors on the subject. I discreetly wrote down the ones that looked as though they might offer some answers to the burning questions in my head.

I walked quietly and slowly so as not to attract attention from the staff. I wanted to find the books on my own. I didn’t need the staff to begin wondering why I was looking for these books. I made my way to the stacks where these books were at. I made sure to pull out a couple of books unrelated to the subject so that if someone were to approach I could ditch what I was reading and pick up one of the others as to appear as though I was glancing at them.

I picked up the first one and began to read here and there. One of the first things I tried to find was a definition of homosexual. After all, that is what Josh asked if we were? There at the beginning of the book in the first few pages was the dictionary’s definition; Homosexual—of, relating to, or characterized by a tendency to direct sexual desire toward another of the same sex. Is this what happened last night? I wondered.

After reading further, the book went on to describe these tendencies and sexual desires It also went into detail in describing various forms of expressing these desires and tendencies. So far the only thing I felt I could compare to last night was the touching and fondling of each other. It didn’t go into much detail about the kissing. It did however go into detail about sexual activity between two people of the same sex. I was stunned and started to lose my grip on the book. I quickly regained control so as not to drop it and draw attention to myself. I continued to read and it explained how two females have sexual intercourse and how two males did as well. I figured Josh and I were safe from being considered homosexuals as long as we didn’t do any of those other things. "But what if we were,