My Gay Experience
By Jim Koury
One of the most often asked questions of me, as an out gay man, is, “When did you know you were gay?” Usually, my response is that I could not know for sure, but I always sensed something different about me from my earliest recollection, which was in first grade. I did not know what gay meant other than it was not a good thing, based upon hearing various people talk disparagingly about such folks. It was the 1960s, after all.
As I mentioned in my book, Unredacted, my first memory of something being off with me was in first grade. It is Valentine’s Day, and we would all make folders taped to the front of our desks to collect Valentine’s cards from classmates. I would always be disappointed when some of the boys in the class did not drop one in and would be doubly disappointed when a female classmate did. So, that was one indication that things were not as expected. I began to repress my feelings for other males at a very young age.
Instances like this continued throughout my childhood into adolescence, along with an intense intrigue in the male form. When puberty hit, my feelings for other males only increased, and I became much more aware of sexual urges not directed toward female classmates but toward my fellow males. These urges scared me. I was ashamed and felt there was something seriously wrong with me.
Then it happened. A friend lived a few blocks away, and I was hanging out in his bedroom as usual. He, out of the blue, asked if I ever jerked off with a guy before. Mind you, this was in 6th grade! I said no, and he asked if I wanted to. So the rest is history. We played around with each other numerous times after that. I knew at that point that I was not going to develop into the typical red-blooded American boy hungry for vaginas. This realization created such agony within. I did not know what to do about it other than continue repressing my feelings. Each time my friend and I got naked and did what we did, the guilt surged, and I always said I would never do it again. However, when the penis emerged, I would always lose control and abandon my vow not to do it.
After entering what was then known as Junior High School (now Middle School), I stopped pursuing sexual encounters with other males. However, that did not stop the thoughts I had and the lustful desires I felt for men, generally. While I was not too fond of gym class, I would always look forward to shower time, as there were guys in my class that I always made a special effort to get near while in the shower. I do not know if they knew I was checking them out. I tried to be as discrete as possible, but who knows what the perception was then?
All through high school, I was inundated with the same feelings and could not help but think of what it would be like to be naked with many of the guys I hung around in my tribe. While I never pursued any sexual liaisons at the time, doing so in a small town upstate New York in the 70s would have labeled me a sexual deviant and someone to avoid. I could not have that happen.
I would always listen to those in my group tell stories about how they had sex with so and so and endured the constant chatter about the females roaming about and around us. Naturally, I would chime in to fit in and not let on that I did not give a rat’s ass about them or their vaginas.
Photo credit: Leo Patrizi
Who knows if they ever had sex with the women they spoke of? A coping mechanism I found that worked well to avoid the need to do the same was to get drunk, and that would be my excuse for not pursuing sexual encounters as my friends habitually did. Since the drinking laws were much different and relatively lax when I was in high school, I had been partaking in alcoholic beverages since I was 16. Drinking was a routine for us.
I remember one night at the bar, this woman started to come on to me. She had a “reputation,” if you know what I mean. To make a long story short, I got my friend’s car keys and headed up to the reservoir, a known hook-up spot for privacy for doing naughty things. We ended up messing around a bit, and I got to the point where I felt “it” with my finger, which creeped me out. At that point, I stopped and told her we should head back to the bar without any explanation. The look on her face!!!! I had a story when I returned to the bar with the dumbfounded would-be conquest! I could finally chime in about an encounter. However, I had to make up the juicy parts, which never happened.
When I got to college and beyond, my sexual encounters with other men increased exponentially while at the same time deeply repressing my true self and telling myself I was bi despite never having sex with a woman and fabricating the lie I would live for many years to come. I would frequent rest areas, cruisy parks, tea rooms (bathrooms), later bathhouses (which I still occasionally frequent), and adult bookstores replete with gloryholes. I finally admitted to myself that I was gay after a night at a rest area, screaming at the top of my lungs in the car that I was gay. I was a fucking queer. From that point on, my evolution within the queer realm began as I finally accepted my truth. It was not until my late 30s when I finally came out publicly, which really started the transformation of my life and evolution as a gay man.
This new paradigm did a number on me. I began to reject most of the established thoughts I had about life, politics, religion, etc, based upon an old way of life, a closeted life. I had to develop a new existence within the context of who I was, which scared the shit out of me. I sought psychiatric help to deal with it all. After six sessions, the doctor told me there was nothing wrong with me — that I was on a path of realignment, he felt I was coping well, and that I would be fine.
Fast forward to now, after many years of living the life I did, I can finally say I am comfortable in my skin, but I realize there are challenges yet to overcome. I know who I am, and I am good with it. The final conquest in becoming the true me was writing my book, Unredacted, which exposed all my deep dark secrets – the rest areas, the tea rooms, the bathhouses, the escorting, the amateur porn — all of it. I always had a nagging feeling that someday someone would expose me for something I did, which always acted as a drag on me and my professional and overall future. I needed to beat them to the punch and do it myself. Now I have nothing to hide. I have no secrets. I am me, and it feels damn good.
While I know many of my fellow queer compatriots do not have the courage or will to go to the extent I have in revealing my truth to the world, they can find a happy medium which they are comfortable with. Evolving as a queer individual in this toxic environment (which I will address in subsequent articles) is a personal choice, and whatever choice one selects is the best for them. Just know that many of us out here know what you are going through, share your pain and anguish, and are ready to help you out of your dark, musty, and very UNHEALTHY closets and give you hope that great things are waiting for you no matter who or what you are.
Jim is the author of two books, Unredacted, and Soul Journey, and also publishes an online publication, Diversity Rules Magazine. He resides in Upstate New York in the city where he was born, with his dog Lina and cat Critter.