… that I first had sex with a man in a bed.

I’d had sex with men before, generally in sleazy cruising spots that were really the only option available to a queer teenager in North Carolina at the time, but I’d never gone home with someone and done it in a nice respectable apartment with a nice respectable bedroom.

I was 17 years old and was coming out with a vengeance. We met, as was the custom at the time among those of us too young for bars, at a tearoom at Four Seasons Mall. He was 23 and was (I swear) in a fraternity at UNC Greensboro. His apartment was actually just a couple of blocks from my house. I don’t remember a lot about the sex, but it was an important moment for me because of the location and because I actually had time to talk to the guy for a while. It’s one of the first times that ever happened for me, actually conversing with a fellow sodomite.

This encounter obviously made a big impression on me as I’ve never forgotten the date, and as I kept having sex with other men (many, many other men) over the years. I’ve seen many apartments and had many conversations. I even picked up another member of that same fraternity a couple of years later, quite by accident.

I’m happy to say that I don’t do frat boys or tearooms anymore, but I do still have sex on occasion. It usually happens in a bed now with someone I already know, so that part of the novelty has worn off.

 

 

…but not as much as 2011 did.

At least for me.

For sheer misery, that will be the one I remember till I die. I’m way past it now, but just thinking back to how miserable almost every day of that soul-sucking year was for me makes me cringe. As bad as it seemed at the time, I really don’t think I quite realized just how fucking dark a place I was in (for 2012 and part of 2013 too). It’s kind of scary in retrospect and I’m glad I finally got some help.

I like myself and my life a whole lot better now. In fact, I think I’d like myself even if I weren’t me. Mainly because no one else could parse that last fucking sentence. But also because I’ve now re-learned how to enjoy life and prioritize the important stuff. Usually, at least.

Anyway, if you have to make a New Year’s resolution, asking for help when you need it might be a good one.