The other day, over on the Twitter, a young man (whose account is private, so I won’t say who it is) tweeted the following:
I hate who I am, the things I like… They complicate my life so much and took away what meant most to me. Why can’t I just be ‘normal’…?
This tore me the fuck up. I mean, I don’t know this guy really. We’re both on Twitter, that’s it. But I wanted to sit down and talk to him right then. To give him a shoulder to let it out on.
I have been that kid.
At various times of my life and for different reasons. When I was young (like he is) and regardless of who I was with or crushed on, I couldn’t stop thinking about someone else of the opposite gender. Or when I tried to make a go of it with the one guy and just couldn’t get myself there and knew I was going to hurt him. Or when I simply shut down sexually and emotionally and went years without touching another person in an intimate way. Or when I was with Belle and feeling like a total freak for liking the shit I do. Why can’t I just be normal!? Again and again, I asked myself that.
And I want to tell him, Dude, there is no normal. Normal is a myth. A lie. Normal is what we call the straightjacket of societally approved acts. In my experience, nobody is fucking normal. And life? It’s always complicated. Every second of every day in some way. By definition, that shit is complicated. It’s just we get used to some of the complications. We make room for them and stop feeling them.
From my perspective just this side of the half-century mark, let me also say “normal and uncomplicated” sounds as boring as hell. It’s only the not-normal and totally complicated that make life worth living. Truly.
I don’t know this guy’s situation. I don’t know what he’s even talking about, really. No idea what he lost or how, though I assume it was an S.O. and because he’s got some nifty little kinks. Let me say that again: Nifty little kinks. Those are what make you fucking awesome. Those are what make you you. There is nothing to hate there. Nothing.
I get the pain. I get the frustration. But you cannot change who you are. You can’t stop wanting what you want. And trust me (TRUST ME), someday you will find a person (or more than one) who wants to be the opposite of your desires. Who desires to feed your desires. It will happen.
If we don’t love ourselves, it’s hard for others to love us. If we don’t accept ourselves, it’s hard to be accepted. If we don’t acknowledge our inherent specialness, you can’t expect anyone else to. Acceptance of one’s self and one’s superpowers (which your sexual predilections absolutely are) is necessary for a happy life.
This is my thousandth post on Denying Thumper. One would expect I’d burn it waxing poetic about chastity or denial or being a little subbie rabbit. Maybe, in a way, I am. Because accepting those things about myself has led me here. A marriage with a wonderful woman who loves me for the freak of nature I am and I love her back fiercely. In fact, we love each other so much, I’m able to have a fucking boyfriend on the side (and I mean that literally). In a way, this entire blog and every word I’ve ever written on it is a giant example of what this post is about.
Accept yourself. Love yourself. Be yourself. Everything else will follow.