Signs I might be gay

So it's been a while, and for that my dear Internet I am sorry... but you haven't commented about wanting a post sooner, so I guess I didn't upset you.

I think today I'll touch on a few signs that should have let me know I was gay...

I distinctly remember watching the Duke's of Hazard with my family. I wasn't even school-aged yet, but I remember my sister liked Bo and I remember liking Luke. Specifically, I liked his Adam's apple. Not sure why that sticks out, but it always has.

Then there were things like being a boy and playing Barbies with my sister. To this day, I don't feel there is any correlation between playing with dolls and being gay, but people could argue that my sexual orientation puts their view in favor of being correct. I look at it like this... I only had a sister and we played together. Heck, she played with dinkies but she isn't a lesbian... at least as far as I know.

And boys. I don't remember when I started noticing boys, but it's fairly far back into my first years of grade school for sure. I remember staring maybe a bit too long at boys, and feeling uncomfortable around them. Not quite feeling like just a "normal boy". I used to play games in my head that I can't stare at boys... or sometimes I would tell myself it's okay, because if they notice me staring at them, then it means that they are looking at me too... so then there's nothing I'm doing wrong.

I tormented myself right through school, and even into my late twenties. I would try and stop myself from looking to long or too frequently at guys. I remember the long drives to school on the school bus, I'd be sitting checking out, when no one was looking, the good looking guy... then worry, what if someone has the ability to read thoughts...surely they'll figure out I think about this guy way too much and confirm to people that I'm gay.

And when I was in high school, I'd find myself masterbating thinking about heterosexual sex between friends at school, or teachers, or whoever had my attention that day, but I'd find myself thinking mainly of the guy. What his penis would look like, what he was feeling... And if I thought about it enough, I would feel guilty, like I did something wrong and try and promise myself that I wouldn't think of the guy any more.

Looking back, I wish I could have told that child, or teenager, that it's okay to notice who ever I want. It's okay to be attracted to someone, anyone, and that it's perfectly healthy. I am not a defect. I am how I'm supposed to be.